


in the valley of the dolls we sleep (dying like a shooting star)

by thylionheart



Series: if my heart was a house, you'd be home [15]
Category: A Wrinkle in Time (2018), Kairos (O'Keefe) Series - Madeleine L'Engle
Genre: Abusive Mother, Anxiety Attacks, Child Abuse, Eating Disorders, F/M, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Orthorexia by Proxy, Veronica has an eating disorder, orthorexia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2020-10-25 21:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20731007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thylionheart/pseuds/thylionheart
Summary: When Veronica faints at school, Meg and Calvin remember the Happy Medium's vision.*not a standalone*





	1. i saw the stars faint (falling them with heartaches)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [findcomfortinastranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/findcomfortinastranger/gifts).

> Guys, please read this.
> 
> This fic address eatings disorders. If that's triggering for you, then please don't read this, and please don't get upset at me if you decide to ignore my (multiple) warnings and are triggered after reading this. I repeat, THIS FIC ADDRESSES EATING DISORDERS. PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU THINK IT MIGHT TRIGGER YOU. A ship isn't worth a relapse.
> 
> Veronica doesn't have a POV in this, and that's mostly for two reasons. One is that I started writing this before I got comfortable writing in her POV. The other is that I didn't feel I could do her POV in this situation justice.  
While I was writing this, I didn't have a specific ED in mind, and organically wrote her situation as I imagined it happening. Then, after writing a large chunk of it, I decided to do some research and discovered that I had inadvertently written a specific, not well-known disorder: Orthorexia by proxy. And after doing research, I learned that it's far more common than one might realize.
> 
> One more thing: This is just the first 5 chapters of this installment. There are more chapters coming. Right now, I have 9 total chapters planned.
> 
> The title of the installment is from Valley of the Dolls by MARINA. The title of the chapter is from Be Free by K'Naan.

* * *

The sun beat down on the cement, reflecting off the basketball court’s faded white lines. At the sound of Calvin’s laugh, Meg looked up from her Ken-Ken puzzle book and watched as he tried to steal the basketball from Jaime. His friend dodged with a laugh of his own, then faked to the left and threw the ball to Veronica. Before Calvin could turn, Veronica tossed the ball at the basket. It sailed through the air and swished through the net without hitting the backboard.

Lunchtime basketball games had become a regular occurrence, even though Meg and Calvin had reclaimed their spot under the maple tree. Meg enjoyed doing her puzzles while the others had fun messing around on the court. It was nice to spend time out in the springtime sun, and since Elle Blumenthal’s return to school, both Meg and Veronica preferred to spend as little time in her presence as possible. As such, the cafeteria, which was Elle’s domain, had become a place to avoid.

Jaime gave his girlfriend a high-five, a wide smile on his face. She returned the smile, but it was strained. While Calvin retrieved the ball, Veronica plodded over to where Meg was sitting against the chainlink fence surrounding the courts.

“Ten minutes left in lunch,” Meg told her, closing her puzzle book and handing her a water bottle.

Veronica gave a quick nod and brought the bottle to her lips. Her skin was pale and sweaty and she looked more exhausted than she normally did after a playful game with the boys.

Meg tilted her head. “You okay?”

“Of course,” Veronica replied, voice sharp. She’d been rather snippy today, even with Jaime, though she was far quicker to apologize to him than to Meg. Things might have been smoothing out between them, but there were undoubtedly a few rough edges left. “Just—I didn’t sleep well last night, okay?”

Rolling her eyes, Meg reopened her book and clicked her pen. “Whatever. Nice basket, by the way.”

Veronica paused. Her shoulders relaxed and she gave Meg back the water bottle. “Thanks. Ten minutes?”

“Yeah.”

“Enough time to get a few more baskets in,” she remarked before walking back toward the boys. But as Meg was in the middle of scribbling in a number in her puzzle, she noticed the other girl falter at half-court. Veronica turned around like she had forgotten something or was confused. Her eyes flickered and grew unfocused. She swayed, then stumbled a step forward before collapsing.

“Veronica!”

The boys turned at Meg’s cry and saw Veronica crumpled on the ground. Jaime shouted her name and rushed to her, followed closely by Calvin. By the time Meg ran over, she had regained consciousness.

“I’m…I’m fine…” Veronica tried to sit up. “I just got a bit li…lightheaded.”

Calvin gently pushed her back down. “Don’t get up. You could’ve hit your head.”

“I’m fine,” Veronica insisted. “My head’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Babe, you’re shaking like flan,” Jaime said. He squeezed her hand.

Gingerly Calvin checked her skull for signs of bleeding, then asked her a few questions to determine whether or not she had a concussion. With each question, Veronica grew more and more irritable until she finally smacked his hands away.

“Knock it off! I said I’m fine!”

Voice calm, Calvin replied, “Veronica, I think you might have a concussion. We gotta get you to the nurse.”

He and Jaime carefully helped her to her feet. Long strands of hair clung to Veronica’s sweat-streaked forehead and her face had grown eerily pale. A few students from the other games met them on their way off the courts, expressing their concern, but she continued claiming that she was okay.

Calvin cast a solemn look at Meg. In unison, the couple whispered a single, seemingly-unsuitable word:

“Happy.”

* * *

“Well…” Nurse Ayala shone a tiny flashlight in Veronica’s eyes and clicked her tongue once before switching the light off. “I don’t think you have a concussion.”

Veronica, who was sitting atop a cot in the corner of the cramped nurse’s office, raised her eyebrows at Meg, Calvin, and Jaime. Nurse Ayala had allowed them to stay, and now they stood near the door, watching the examination anxiously. “See, I told you. I’m fine.”

“Oh no, you’re definitely not fine,” rebutted the dark-skinned nurse, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you have diabetes, Veronica?”

“No? I can’t have diabetes; I’m on a no-sugar diet.”

Nurse Ayala nurse eyed her warily. “That’s a common misconception. Sugar doesn’t cause diabetes. But what you’ve just said probably explains your symptoms.” She set down her clipboard and dug through a nearby drawer, producing two small devices; a lancet and a meter. “Give me your hand, please.”

Veronica held out her hand and yelped when Nurse Ayala promptly pricked her finger with the lancet. Blood beaded on her skin and the nurse placed it atop the black strip that stuck out of the meter. After a few seconds, the device displayed a number: 44.

Nurse Ayala sighed. “You have hypoglycemia.”

“Hypo—what?” Jaime asked, his voice pitching with concern.

“Hypoglycemia,” Calvin said quietly. “Low blood sugar.”

Veronica’s eyes practically bugged out of her head.

“Blood sugar is also known as glucose,” began Meg as she fiddled with the zipper of her jacket, “which we get from carbohydrates and sugar. Our cells convert glucose into energy, and our red blood cells and brain rely mainly on glucose for energy in order to function. That’s why you have to eat sugar and carbs, even if magazines and diets might say to just cut it all out, y’know? I mean, there’s absolutely _nothing_ wrong with eating a healthy amount of sugar or carbs or starches or—”

Calvin cut off her rambling with a nudge and a warning glance before she could betray how much they knew about Veronica’s dieting habits. How could they explain that they knew all this because of an extraterrestrial seer’s vision?

Nurse Ayala, however, nodded as she bandaged Veronica’s finger. “She’s right. You need to get off that diet. Normal non-diabetic blood sugar levels don’t usually fall below 70 if that provides any context to how low yours is. I’ll have to call your parents, and school procedure demands that I call 911 for a hypoglycemic loss of consciousness—however brief—as well.”

“No!” Veronica shook her head, her eyes wide and frantic. “Please, don’t call my parents. Don’t call 911. I feel fine!”

“This is not up for discussion, missy. You three”—she pointed at Meg, Calvin, and Jaime—“don’t let her leave. Come find me _immediately_ if she faints again. I’ll be right back.”

They nodded. As soon as the nurse left, Veronica clambered to her feet.

Jaime stepped in front of her. “Ay, where are you going?”

“Class. Gym started like, two minutes ago.”

“Are you crazy?” Jaime exclaimed. “Did you not hear a word the nurse just said?”

“I did, but she’s wrong. I’m perfectly fine. There must be something wrong with that little reader.”

Calvin blocked the door. “We can’t let you leave. Look at yourself. You’re as white as a ghost and you’re still shaking. You need a doctor.”

“I’ve only been on that diet for a couple weeks.” Veronica tucked her trembling hands under her arms. “It’s nothing to freak out about.”

Meg and Calvin exchanged a troubled look. That was a blatant lie. Not even Jaime seemed to believe her. “Babe, what…what else haven’t you been eating?”

“I…just sugar and carbs. And fats and, um, starches. And my mom says lactose intolerance runs in the family, so I can’t have dairy either. But it’s just a crash diet, it’s no big deal!”

Meg spoke up. “Veronica, my mom is a microbiologist. I’ve grown up with her warning me about diets like this. Severe hypoglycemia is _dangerous_. You could have a seizure, or slip into a coma—it could even kill you!”

Jaime blanched. _“Madre mía…_Veronica…”

He tried to hold her, but she shied away and couldn’t meet his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m perfectly fine. Perfectly.”

Meg stamped her foot. “Veronica, stop lying to yourself!”

“What do you care?” Veronica snapped back. Hostility suddenly overtook her tone. “You hate me.”

“I don’t—”

The door swung open. Nurse Ayala came back inside, a can of Mountain Dew in one hand. When she saw Veronica on her feet, she tsked.

“What are you doing? Sit back down. Here, drink this.”

Veronica recoiled. “I—I’m not allowed to drink soda.”

“Forget that for a moment. You need to raise your blood sugar levels. Drink. Now.”

Veronica took the can, holding it as if it might bite her, and slowly took a sip. Her face screwed up and she coughed. “Gah, that burns!”

Nurse Ayala watched her like a hawk as she drank. “I called your home and no one answered, so I called your mother’s listed mobile number. She’s on her way. An ambulance is going to come pick you up and take you to the hospital.”

“But—”

The young woman gave her a no-nonsense stare. Veronica slumped against the wall behind the cot. As the time ticked by, Jaime crossed the room and sat next to his girlfriend. Meg watched him bow his head close to Veronica’s and whispered to her, but she only fussed with the soda can’s metal tab, her fingers trembling.

“_Princesa_,” Meg heard Jaime say, “you know you can talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m _fine_. Why won’t anyone just _listen_ to me?”

Plucking at the dyed-blond patch of curls at the front of his head, Jaime sighed and said, “’Cause it’s obvious you’re lying. I just didn’t think you would keep lying to me.”

Jaime left her to stand next to Calvin, who patted his buddy on the back and mumbled encouragements into his ear. On the cot, Veronica finally looked at Jaime, her mouth opening and pursing back together like she wanted to say something. Her gaze met Meg’s for a brief second, and in her eyes Meg saw an ache that she couldn’t describe. But then Veronica’s eyes darkened and she looked away.

Six tense minutes had passed when a knock sounded at the door. When Nurse Ayala moved to open it, it swung opened to reveal a tall, lithe woman with copper-brown skin.

As soon as Veronica saw her, she tucked her knees close to her chest and attempted to hide the Mountain Dew between her legs and her stomach. “Mom?”

“Veronica, there you are.” Mrs. Kiley’s gaze flickered to Jaime, narrowed, and then landed on Meg. A smile blossomed across her face, but no warmth filled her eyes. “Maggie! Long time no see.”

Meg tried not to scrunch her nose. “Hi, Mrs. Kiley.”

“Tch, Mrs. Kiley is my mother-in-law. Karin is fine.”

“How’d you get here so fast?” asked Veronica, shifting on the cot with a mild look of discomfort. Her current position didn’t look very pleasant.

“I was visiting a friend in Dorset—you know Lisa. We were supposed to go to—” Mrs. Kiley stopped short, her eyes landing on the poorly-concealed Mountain Dew. She marched over and snatched the can out of Veronica’s hands. “What have I told you about drinking soda? No wonder you’re in the nurse’s office. This stuff will make you sick, and I won’t have you rotting your beautiful teeth. Not after all the money I spent on braces.”

Veronica melted into herself, lowering her eyes and giving her mother a complacent nod. She wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them. 

Nurse Ayala stepped forward, brushing away a lock of her flat-ironed hair. “I gave that to her. As I said over the phone, Veronica fainted earlier due to low blood sugar. She needs the soda to help raise her levels.”

Eyes on the soda, she held out her hand expectantly. But Mrs. Kiley didn’t even look at the nurse. She turned back toward the door and dropped the half-empty can into the trash bin. “Ronnie’s always been quite the actress. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s tried to play hooky. I assure you, my daughter is perfectly healthy.”

_Perfectly_. Meg’s brow pinched into a frown. Veronica had said the same thing multiple times earlier, almost like a mantra.

Jaime’s neck flushed red. “Have you even looked at her? How can you say that?”

Mrs. Kiley shot him a withering glare. “I think I know my daughter better than _you._”

Veronica cringed and Jaime shrunk back. Clearly Mrs. Kiley didn’t approve of her daughter’s boyfriend.

“I checked Veronica’s blood sugar levels myself,” Nurse Ayala informed Mrs. Kiley. Annoyance weighed down the corners of her mouth. “I assure _you_ that she’s not pretending. Her blood sugar was only 44, far below normal, which is why—”

Before she could finish, someone knocked three times on the door. Calvin, who was the closest to the door, opened it, revealing two EMTs—a man and a woman.

“We’re here for a hypoglycemic syncope,” the man said, and hefted a crimson paramedical bag.

Mrs. Kiley let out a squawk of indignation. “You called 911?”

“Miss,” Nurse Ayala sighed in exasperation, “I told you that over the phone.”

“Well, I’m sorry to waste your time,” Mrs. Kiley said to the EMTs. She took her daughter’s hand and jerked her to her feet. “Come, Ronnie. I’m taking you home.”

Meg’s heart dropped into her stomach. Across the room, Calvin shot her a wide-eyed glance.

The female EMT stopped her. “Ma’am, are you the mother?”

“I am.”

“Then are you aware that if your daughter has hypoglycemia, her condition will rapidly decline if not treated? It would be best if you allowed us to—”

“For the last time,” Mrs. Kiley snapped, “my daughter does not have hyperglycemia.”

“_Hypo-_glycemia, not hyper—”

“Whatever. She is healthy, and we are leaving.”

As she marched toward the door, Jaime caught Veronica’s free hand.

“Wait, you can’t leave!”

His girlfriend wavered. “Jaime—”

“Listen to them! This is your _life_ we are talking about. _Por Dios_, Juliet, go to the hospital.”

Veronica looked between her expectant mother and her pleading boyfriend, her eyes wide and watering. Finally, she focused on Jaime and whispered, “I’m sorry, Romeo.”

She dropped his hand and let her mother tug her out the door. Jaime tried to follow, but Calvin held him back.

“Veronica! Calvin, _¡suéltame! _We have to stop her!” He whirled on one of the EMTs—a broad-shouldered Latino man—and started speaking frantically in Spanish.

The man held up his hands. “Kid, I’m from Michigan. _No hablo español._”

Jaime swore and turned to Meg, ignoring the reproach Nurse Ayala gave him for cussing. “Tell me, this…this—_ay, esta dolencia—_condition! This condition, it can’t actually kill her? _Te lo ruego,_ tell me you were lying.”

Meg’s throat burned and constricted; she could only shake her head. Calvin crossed the room so he could wrap his arm around her shoulder.

“It’s rare, because normally it’s caught and treated rather quickly,” said the female EMT. “But if her hypoglycemia isn’t treated and her blood sugar levels continue to plummet, then yes. She could die.”

“Then why didn’t you take her to the hospital? You should have taken her to the hospital!”

“Jaime,” Nurse Ayala said firmly, “it’s not their fault. It’s a matter of consent. EMTs can’t administer treatment to a minor if a present parent doesn’t give consent. There’s nothing more they, or you kids, can do right now. Except hope that her mother changes her mind.”

Tears brimmed in Jaime’s eyes, and he sat on the small bed, staring numbly at the floor. Calvin sat beside him and drew him into a hug. The EMTs shuffled out of the room with pitying glances at the kids.

Meg pulled out her phone. Her fingers trembled as she typed in her passcode. If they couldn’t convince Mrs. Kiley to take Veronica to the hospital, maybe her mother could.


	2. mother against daughter (on a mosey afternoon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate tries to talk some sense into Karin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Intro (Inhale) by Courtney Pine.

* * *

By the time Karin and Veronica pulled into their driveway, Kate had counted the number of bricks in the top step of their porch seven times. She stood from the plush patio chair as they made their way up the walkway.

“Kate!” Karin plastered on a smile. “Long time, no see. Come on inside.”

A long time indeed, and for the better. Kate had never been a fan of Karin Kiley. The woman was flighty, superficial, and prone to making passive-aggressive comments that drove Kate up the wall. Even now, the cheerfulness in Karin’s voice unsettled her, especially as she looked over at her daughter. Veronica’s face was ashen and she appeared as if she had been crying.

After they stepped inside, Veronica headed straight for the stairs. Her mother stopped her.

“Ronnie, please get Mrs. Murry something to drink.”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Kate tried to say, but Karin waved her off.

“I’d like some water as well. With lemon, of course.”

Veronica nodded wearily and trudged into the kitchen.

The living room was bright and airy, with light wood features and a faux-crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Karin had furnished the room with decor inspired by her Lebanese heritage, including a framed map of Beirut above the mantle and an intricately woven rug that covered most of the floor.

Kate sat in an armchair. “Karin, I’m here to—”

“First things first,” Karin interrupted, settling on the sofa across from Kate. “I want to tell you how happy I am for you. If it had been me, I don’t think I could’ve waited four years.”

Kate frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Your husband! I can’t believe you didn’t date the _entire_ time. I wouldn’t last six months without needing to seek some companionship, if you catch my drift. But you, wow, even four years after Alex left, you just couldn’t move on.”

Veronica reentered the room in time to catch the last few sentences. She met Kate’s eyes and shook her head as if apologizing for her mother’s thoughtless words. Karin saw that Kate’s gaze had shifted and she turned around.

“Ah, Ronnie.” She beckoned her over. A set of gold bangles rattled against the brown skin of her wrist.

Veronica gave a glass of water to each adult and tried to leave.

“Don’t be rude,” chided Karin. “Sit down.”

Slowly Veronica sat on the sofa beside her mother, leaving a good foot of room between them.

Kate tried again. “Listen, I—”

Karin cut her off. “But seriously, Kate, how are you doing? It’s gotta be such shell-shock.”

“I…I am doing great. Thank you.”

Veronica’s phone chirped.

“But, Karin, I’m not here to talk about that.”

The phone chirped a second time, then a third, and then a fourth, all in quick succession.

Karin’s head snapped to her daughter. “Veronica Sarina, turn that off! You’re being unbelievably rude.”

Her daughter flinched and brought out her phone. As she silenced it, she read the messages. Her bottom lip trembled. “It’s Jaime…”

“Oh, give me that.” Karin plucked the phone out of her daughter’s hand. “I told you that boy wasn’t good enough for you. I don’t want you talking to him anymore. In the meantime, I’ll be holding onto this.”

Veronica’s eyes widened. “But—”

“No buts. And I asked for lemon.” The ice cubes in her glass clinked together as Karin handed it back to Veronica.

Kate watched in pity as a tear slid down the girl’s cheek. Karin didn’t even blink.

Veronica went to the kitchen to fetch some lemon for her mother. Finally, Kate managed to take control of the conversation.

“Karin, I’m here because my daughter called me about Veronica’s hypoglycemia.”

Karin tossed her long, inky black hair behind her shoulder and laughed dismissively. “Oh, that was all just a silly misunderstanding. My Ronnie is a perfectly healthy young lady. I’ve made sure of that myself.”

Her voice held an odd conviction, and Kate got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Did Karin truly not understand the danger she was putting her daughter in?

“Do you know what my job is, Karin?”

“Frankly, I didn’t know you worked. You’re always home, holed up in that little shed of yours.”

Kate tried not to show her irritation. “I’m a microbiologist, and that ‘shed’ is my lab, in which I study things like cells and their mitochondria. So trust me when I tell you that sugar and carbohydrates are vital to healthy cell function. If whatever diet Veronica is on is making her cut those out, she is not healthy.”

Kate had hoped those facts would have a sobering effect on her, but Karin only scoffed.

“Pardon me, Kate, but I really don’t think this is any of your business.” Before Kate could reply, Karin looked toward the kitchen and called out, “Veronica, what is taking so long?”

A few moments later, her daughter entered the room with her glass of water—with lemon this time. Her hands shook as she gave it to her mother and her hair fell forward, blocking Kate’s view of her face.

“Now that’s much better,” said Karin with a smile.

Veronica peeked at Kate as she sat. A fierce mixture of sympathy and anger tugged at Kate’s heartstrings when she saw that the girl’s eyes were puffy from crying.

“Karin,” said Kate firmly, “my only concern is for Veronica. If her brain doesn’t get enough glucose, she could fall into a coma. It is imperative that you take her to the hospital before her condition worsens. You should have let the ambulance take her there earlier.”

She tried to catch Veronica’s eye again. If she couldn’t convince her mother, perhaps she could convince Veronica.

Karin’s amber eyes flashed and she dropped her friendly demeanor. “Are you calling me a bad mother?”

_Yes._ “No. There are a lot of misconceptions about no-sugar, no-carb diets, and I’m simply trying to warn you that your daughter’s life is at stake.”

Veronica’s hands curled into fists, balling up the hem of her corduroy skirt.

“Well. Thank you for the warning, Kate.” Karin did not sound thankful in the slightest. She stood and gestured toward the door. “And thank you for stopping by.”

When Kate stepped outside, Karin slammed the door behind her.


	3. walking on wires and power lines (to the heavens and stars above)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica isolates herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Powerful by Tarrus Riley & Ellie Goulding.

* * *

For two days, Veronica avoided everyone, even Adriana. During lunch one day, on her way to the bathroom, Meg accidentally stumbled upon Adriana and Miguel sitting next to the trophy case. Neither noticed her and she left as quickly as she could, but not before seeing Adriana crying on Miguel’s shoulder and hearing the boy quietly comforting her in Spanish. Veronica’s name rang in her ears.

Jaime hardly spoke. Meg had become so accustomed to hearing his laugh that the absence of it made lunch feel tense and empty. Apparently, Veronica had broken up with him over text. 

On the second day, Adriana and Miguel showed up on the basketball court during lunch and found Meg and the boys sitting against the chain-link fence. With everything that had happened, neither Calvin nor Jaime were in the mood to shoot hoops.

“Have you seen Veronica?” asked Adriana, her voice uncharacteristically timid. “I know she’s been spending lunch with you guys lately.”

Jaime shook his head. When he said nothing farther, Calvin gave Adriana a sympathetic frown and said, “She hasn’t talked to any of us since Wednesday.”

“What happened Wednesday?” A hint of accusation colored Miguel’s tone. “‘Cause she hasn’t spoken to us since then either, and she bl—”

Adriana elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a warning glare. He faltered, cleared his throat, and fussed with the strap of his sports watch.

Once again, Jaime kept quiet. Closing his eyes, he turned his head away and ran his thumb under the silver chain around his neck. Calvin patted his shoulder before solemnly saying, “Veronica fainted during lunch. The nurse said she has really, really low blood sugar and called 911, but Mrs. Kiley came and took Veronica home. She wouldn’t let her go to the hospital. And Veronica hasn’t spoken to any of us since.”

Confusion shadowed Adriana’s face, as well as a tiny sliver of fear in her eyes. “Why—why wouldn’t she tell me? Why would she—” She stopped suddenly, her hands balling into fists. “Never mind. I’ll find her and ask her myself.”

Michael reached out to touch her arm, but she turned on her heel and marched away. Her friend, on the other hand, hesitated. An uncertain frown weighed down the corners of his mouth.

Calvin shot an inquiring look at Meg. She picked at the crust of her sandwich before giving him a small nod.

“You can stay and eat with us, if you want,” Calvin told Miguel. He tapped the cement next to him.

Miguel blinked, surprised at the offer, and was about to speak when Adriana’s voice called out from across the court.

“_Amigo._” The metal gate squeaked open and she beckoned Miguel. “_Vámonos._”

“_Un momento_—”

“_Ahora_.”

The strap of Miguel’s sports watch came unhooked; he slapped it back on his wrist. “Sorry,” he mumbled to Calvin. “But…thanks.”

“Anytime. Seriously.”

Miguel wavered another moment longer. Then he followed Adriana off the court, leaving the group alone once more.

* * *

Veronica never showed up in the girls’ locker room at the start of gym. But when Meg walked onto the field, Veronica was already with Coach Stewart, dressed in her gym clothes and helping to place orange cones in a rectangular perimeter. She must’ve changed during lunch.

Coach Stewart split the class into two groups for dodgeball. Calvin and Jaime were in Group A whilst Meg, Veronica, Adriana, and Miguel were in Group B. Before the game started, Meg watched Adriana weave through the crowd toward Veronica, Miguel—as always—hot on her heels. They had almost reached her when the starting whistle cut through the air. Veronica dashed forward to retrieve a ball, leaving her friends behind.

Meg did what she always did when the class played dodgeball: she walked into the free-zone, waited until someone from the other team hit her, and left to sit in the jail. It was much more fun to watch Calvin play than to try and play herself. Even amongst the chaos of dodgeball, he proved himself a true athlete. Plucking at sprigs of grass, Meg watched with adoration as he slid under Hunter Moretti’s thrown ball and nailed Hunter with his own.

A few minutes into the game, Isabel Costello pegged Adriana in the arm, sending her straight to the jail. She waited impatiently next to Meg, foot tapping the sod, and occasionally shouted instructions at Miguel. For the most part, Meg ignored her, but when Adriana’s voice abruptly died out, she looked up.

Veronica had appeared at the edge of the playing field, right in front of Adriana. Earlier she’d been running around, successfully dodging balls, and now sweat naturally dewed on her forehead and eyelashes. But the pallor of her skin had grown as white as ivory and there was an eerie, blank look in her eyes.

“Veronica?” Adriana took a step toward her friend. Her voice was softer than Meg had ever heard it before.

“Adri…I don’ feel…” Veronica’s words slurred and she staggered. “Feel…” Her knees buckled beneath her and she hit the ground hard. Eyes wide and unfocused, she stared at the sky above while her body convulsed. Her fists clenched; her forearms jerked up toward her chest, rigid and trembling.

Adriana let out a scream that stopped nearby students in their tracks. “Veronica! Coach! Coach, help!”

She and Meg knelt beside Veronica. Across the field, Jaime shouted in alarm.

Meg had never witnessed a seizure before. The emptiness in Veronica’s bulging eyes sent a jolt of fear down her spine. Her mind raced with everything she knew about seizures and she imagined Veronica’s brain pulsing and surging with erratic pulses, like a violent electrical storm.

_Like the IT’s brain._

In that moment, she realized with a sobering clarity that she wasn’t seeing Veronica as her bully for the past four years, but rather as her old best friend, the girl she used to play with in the alley between their houses. The girl who, at one point in time, Meg had loved so dearly that she had planned to give her an enfolded heart, like the one her parents had given her and she had given Calvin.

The sudden revelation stole Meg’s breath and muddled her thoughts to the point where she didn’t hear her teacher yelling until she was right next to her.

“Get back! Give her room!”

Both Meg and Adriana stood and took several numb steps back. 

Coach Stewart shrugged off her hoodie and placed it under Veronica’s head before turning her onto her side. She checked her watch as she asked, “Does anyone know if she has epilepsy?”

“She’s not epileptic, she’s hypoglycemic,” said Calvin, who by this time had hurried over and was clutching Meg’s hand.

“Diabetic?”

“No, just hypoglycemic.”

“Is this her first seizure?”

“I don’t know. I think so, but I don’t know. She passed out on Wednesday, but she was only out for like, three seconds.”

“Alright.” Coach tossed her cell phone at Calvin. “Call 911.”

A large flock of students had gathered around them. At the edge of the crowd, Miguel was holding Jaime back from rushing to Veronica’s side, arguing with him in Spanish. Meg felt Calvin’s arm curl around her and she realized that she was trembling.

Eight long minutes passed before the paramedics arrived. By the time they did, Veronica’s seizure had ended and she lay dazed and mute on the grass. Everything that followed was a blur. The paramedics moved her onto a gurney and spoke rapidly to Coach, Meg, and Calvin about her condition before injecting her with glucagon. Then Veronica was gone, whisked away in the ambulance, sirens wailing.

Jaime slumped to the ground, Miguel’s arms still around him, and cried.

Coach Stewart picked her hoodie up off the grass and looked around at her rattled students. “I…” She sighed. “You know what? Go get changed and wait quietly in the courtyard for sixth period to start. Class dismissed.”

* * *

Calvin left the locker room and trudged to the courtyard, his heart heavy. He had spent the last ten minutes trying to console Jaime to no avail. He’d also gotten a chance to talk to Miguel about something rather odd that had happened earlier that week. According to Miguel, Veronica had sent Adriana a harsh, pithy text denouncing their friendship, and then had promptly blocked her number. The odd part? Veronica had referred to Adriana as Meg.

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” Miguel had said. “Veronica’s contact name for Adri is just a bunch of emojis, so I told Adri that maybe Veronica meant to text Meg and not her.”

But Calvin had shaken his head. “Veronica doesn’t have Meg’s number.”

Now, he scoured the courtyard for Meg. Students sat in quiet clusters on the cold cement planter boxes. The entire courtyard felt drenched in unease; the only person who spoke above a whisper was Elle Blumenthal. She sat with her clique, smiling and chattering happily, but everyone else stared at the ground and gave each other tense frowns. Dave Peyton in particular kept shooting scowls at Elle. Then, as Calvin watched, the football player stood, said something to Elle, and took off toward the gym. Her smile disappeared. Jerking to her feet, she followed Dave.

Finally, Calvin spotted Meg in the corner of the courtyard, sitting against the wall. He quickly made his way over to her. Before he could even sit down next to her, she spoke with a wobbly voice.

“We should’ve done something before it got this far.” Taking a deep breath, Meg looked up at him, her eyes watery. “We knew she had…issues. We _knew_ it. But we never said anything. Not to her, not to Mom or Dad, not even to each other. We failed her.”

“You’re right.” Calvin slid down the wall beside her. He leaned his head back and stared at the sky. “After everything that happened on Camazotz, I honestly…I forgot. I was thinking about you, and your dad, and my dad…and I forgot about Veronica.”

Meg pulled her knees up to her chest. “I didn’t. But I tried to. I pushed it out of my mind and told myself that she was just trying out a diet. ‘It wouldn’t last, she’ll drop it soon. It’s just a phase.’ Then after she apologized and you said that maybe the IT’s hold on her was gone, I thought that it would mean that that was gone too. I never…I never thought it’d get this bad. Cal, what have we done?”

When Calvin heard her sniffle, he drew her into a hug and held her firmly. “Oh, Meg…we can’t change the choices we made in the past. But we can make new choices and change the future. This was a rude awakening, but it was an awakening, and now we have to do our best to help Veronica and support her through this. Okay?”

Meg nuzzled closer to him. “You sound like a fortune cookie, you know that? Mrs Who would be proud.”

A sad smile spread across Calvin’s face. He kissed her temple before resting his head atop hers.


	4. the i.v. and your hospital bed (a therapeutic chain of events)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids visit Veronica at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Camisado by Panic! At The Disco.

* * *

The moment school ended, Meg, Calvin, and Jaime met up in the front courtyard. Anxiety stretched between the kids, their nerves fraying more by the second. Since Jaime’s number was blocked, Calvin had tried calling and texting Veronica with no results. Meg’s luck, on the other hand, had been better.

“I called my mom earlier and told her what happened,” Meg informed the boys. She was sitting on the cement planter box, her knee bouncing up and down. “Last period, she texted me and told me that she called Mr. Kiley, and he told her that Veronica’s at UCLA Mattel Children’s Hospital in Westwood.”

“Westwood?” A voice exclaimed. Behind the boys stood Adriana and Miguel. It was Adriana who had spoken, her eyes large with confusion. “But that’s thirty minutes away.”

“It’s the closest pediatric hospital,” Meg explained, craning her neck so she could see the other girl around the boys. “In an ambulance, it might be more like twenty minutes.”

“That’s still too long.” Adriana pressed her fingers to her temples.

Calvin spoke up, telling her, “If Veronica hadn’t been stable, they would’ve taken her to the closest emergency room and stabilized her there, and then sent her to Mattel. Since they took her straight to Mattel, it means she was stable enough to ride that far.”

Meg’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw a text from her mother.

_Dad and I are parked on the curb. We’ll take you and Calvin to see Veronica._

“Jaime,” Meg jumped to her feet, “do you want to ride with me and Cal to Mattel? My parents are here; they’ll take us.”

“_Sí_,” replied Jaime. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I’d really appreciate it.”

Adriana crossed and uncrossed her arms, her voice unsteady when she said, “I’ll have my ma take me and Miguel. We’ll meet you there.”

It being a Friday, and therefore a half-day for the kindergarten, Meg’s mother had already picked up Charles Wallace earlier in the afternoon. Now he was under the watchful eye of their neighbor, Mrs. Buncombe, and both of Meg’s parents sat in the family Subaru. Meg and Calvin scrambled into the backseat while Jaime waited outside for permission. Calvin leaned forward, his backpack between his knees, and addressed Meg’s parents.

“Is it okay if Jaime comes? He’s Veronica’s—uh, he and Veronica are close.”

Meg’s father glanced back from the driver’s seat. “Of course. Hop in, kiddo.”

Jaime obliged with a relieved sigh. After he closed the door behind him, Meg’s mother said, “You’re Veronica’s boyfriend, right?”

“Ex,” Jaime said in a small voice.

She frowned and twisted in her seat to face him. “She broke up with you?”

“_Sí_, a few days ago. After her mom took her home from school.”

“Face-to-face?”

“No, over text.”

Shaking her head, Meg’s mother mumbled to herself, “Oh, you’re kidding me, Karin.” Then she addressed Jaime. “Honey, Mrs. Kiley took away Veronica’s phone while I was visiting them that day. She forbade Veronica from talking to you, but Veronica didn’t want to and started crying. She didn’t send that text. Her mother did.”

Meg and Calvin exchanged shocked glances. That meant that Mrs. Kiley had also sent that awful text to Adriana, probably under the impression that she was sending it to Meg as punishment for meddling.

With this new revelation, an already emotionally-compromised Jaime began to cry.

Calvin patted his shoulder. “That’s good news, right? It wasn’t Veronica. She didn’t break up with you.”

Jaime replied in Spanish, his words slurred with tears. Meg could barely make out a single word, yet Calvin managed to understand.

“Hey, don’t think like that. She’s gonna be alright.”

“_Tú no sabe que,_” Jaime covered his face with his hands. “You don’t, you don’t know.”

“I know that hypoglycemic seizures rarely result in death,” Calvin told him. “Not only that, but there’s rarely significant brain damage, either. I did research after she fainted, Jai. The doctors at the hospital will know how to take care of her. Okay? I promise.”

Meg’s dad adjusted the rearview mirror to look at Jaime. “He’s right, kiddo. Hypoglycemia may be dangerous, but it’s relatively easy to reverse low blood sugar before there’s any permanent damage.”

“But what if she’s in a coma?” Jaime looked desperately between Calvin and Meg’s father. “What then?”

A solemn expression crossed over her father’s face. “Then, we pray.”

* * *

LA traffic made the drive to the hospital an agonizing forty minutes. Adriana and Miguel arrived not thirty seconds after them—Mrs. Gonzales had taken a slightly different route—and ran up to meet them at the door. As they hurried inside, Calvin explained the texting situation to them. Adriana looked confused but relieved, while Miguel looked downright furious. A couple times, Meg saw him start to reach for Adriana’s hand before hesitating and stuffing his in the pocket of his joggers.

After checking in at guest registration, Meg’s parents and the group of teens made their way to the pediatric ICU. The large hospital was constructed like a maze, and it wasn’t long before they were lost. On the third floor, in a hallway lined with patient rooms, Meg’s parents stopped at a nurse’s station to ask for directions whilst the teens hovered anxiously near the elevator. Through a glass window nearby, they could see into the closest patient room. A nurse was inside tending to a little boy dressed in a patterned gown. As the teens watched, the nurse uncapped a hypodermic syringe.

All the color drained from Miguel’s face and he turned away, swaying slightly. “Oh, _Dios_…”

Calvin touched his arm. “Miguel? You okay?”

“I hate needles,” the boy mumbled as he rubbed his face, “and hospitals in general.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Adriana told him.

Her words elicited a strange look from Miguel. “Of course I did. Veronica’s my friend, too.”

“_Amigo_, that’s not—”

“_Olvídalo_.” He waved his hand and walked away, expression sullen.

Scowling, Adriana ran her fingers through her curls. “…what I meant,” she finished in a mutter.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, the group found their way to the PICU. Meg’s parents went straight to the nurse’s station outside the unit and requested entrance. A male nurse with a pock-marked face checked everyone’s visitor’s badges one by one, then picked up a phone and put in their request. A minute later, the man stood, skirted the counter, and used his keycard to open the PICU door.

A stocky man was waiting for them by the entrance. Meg almost didn’t recognize him; he’d grown a dark, scraggly beard since she’d last seen him.

Mr. Kiley.

“Kate, Alex.” He moved to shake their hands, though there was no energy in the action. His eyes were glazed over, his entire body tense. “Thank you for coming.” Looking at Adriana, Miguel, and Jaime, he gave the smallest smile. “Veronica’ll be really happy to see you.”

For the first time that afternoon, hope illuminated Jaime’s face. “You mean, she’s awake? She’s not in a coma?”

“Coma? No, she’s awake. The doctor said she’s stable. But…” Mr. Kiley cracked his knuckles against his palm. “There’re some things I need to tell you. Let’s go sit down.”

As they all moved to a seating area near the nurse’s station—and just barely out of the sightline of Veronica’s treatment suite—a pretty strawberry-blonde lady came over to introduce herself as Nurse Quin, the PICU’s charge nurse. She had kind eyes but a firm air about her, and she made it clear to the teens that this was a hospital, not a schoolyard, and she wouldn’t tolerate any monkey business.

“You wouldn’t believe how many kids your age think it’s fine and dandy to play with the medical equipment,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m telling you now that if you think the same, then you’ll have to leave. Understood?”

They all nodded and voiced their understanding. Once Nurse Quin returned to her duties, Mr. Kiley sat down. Everyone else followed suit.

“Francis,” Meg’s father said before Mr. Kiley could speak, “Where’s Karin?”

A scowl shadowed the man’s face. “I don’t know. She was gone when I woke up and hasn’t been answering her phone. She has a bad habit of letting her phone die when she’s out.” He wiped his hands on his faded jeans. His clothes looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed; his hair was greasy and dark circles sat beneath his eyes. “So, uh…back to Ronnie. The doctors’ve took some tests. She’s…she’s undernourished. She’s not getting enough nutrients. She’s also got vitamin deficiency anemia.”

“It’s not just low blood sugar?” asked Adriana.

“No. They’ve, uh, determined that she has some form of eating disorder.”

A choked gasp caught in Jaime’s throat and he hunched over, his head in his hands. Adriana covered her mouth and tried to stifle a sob.

Mr. Kiley blinked a few times before continuing. “Her, um, her throat doesn’t show any signs of constant purging and her body isn’t emaciated, so they think they caught it before it escalated into bulimia or anorexia. Based on the tests, it appears that she’s been completely cutting out entire food groups and nutrients. As such, the doctors’ve selected an intensive outpatient program for her to attend. It’ll…it’ll cut into her school time. Three days a week, 11:45 in the morning to 3 o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Francis…” Meg’s mom began, her voice low. Her husband placed his hand on the small of her back. “With all due respect, I think Karin may be partially responsible. Did you know that Veronica fainted the other day?”

“What?” Mr. Kiley stared at her. “No, I didn’t. When’d this happen?”

Calvin answered him. “Three days ago, during lunch. We—myself, Meg, and Jaime—took her to the school nurse. She checked Veronica’s blood sugar, found that it was low, and then called her mom and 911. But her mom got there first, and she wouldn’t let Veronica go to the hospital or talk to the EMTs. She didn’t even let her drink the soda that the nurse gave her to raise her blood sugar.”

“My daughter called me immediately,” Meg’s mom continued, “and I spoke to Karin as soon as they got home. She refused to listen to my advice to take Veronica to the hospital, even after I warned her that she could have a seizure or fall into a coma. She insisted that Veronica was healthy, and that she had ‘made sure of that herself.’”

Mr. Kiley’s hands balled into fists and his jaw pulsed. Abruptly he lurched to his feet. The chair screeched against the tile floor and nearly tipped over. Beside her, Meg felt Calvin flinch. Mr. Kiley stormed off without a word. Meg’s dad whispered something to her mother before following him.

Rubbing her hands together awkwardly, her mother gave the teens a sympathetic smile. “How about you kids go talk to Veronica? I think it’ll mean a lot to her that you came.”

She left to speak to the charge nurse. For a minute, the teens sat unmoving and silent.

Then, Miguel spoke. “How could he not know that she fainted?” Anger tinged his tone. “Or that she wasn’t eating right? He’s her _father_. How do you not notice something like that?”

Knee bouncing, Adriana mussed her hair with her fingers. “I’ve never seen her dad at home. He’s a security guard at a bank, so he works really late hours. Veronica’s said that when she wakes up he’s just gone to bed, and when she’s going to bed he’s just getting up for work. But he adores her, he does. He always takes a day off on her birthday so he can take her to the beach.”

Jaime spoke up quietly. “If he adores her so much, then how come he’s never come to any of our performances? My papá works night shifts all the time too, and he _hates_ theater, but he still comes.” 

“And love isn’t something you only show someone once a year,” Meg added, a deep frown on her face. She felt Calvin’s fingers brush hers, his skin warm and grip strong as he entwined their hands together.

“That’s not…It’s not _just_ on her birthday. It’s…” Adriana’s voice quavered. She bowed her head to hide her face from everyone. “…I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

Miguel rubbed her back, his eyes dark with melancholy.

With a short, shallow breath, Jaime stood. “I can’t wait anymore.”

The group double-checked with Nurse Quin to make sure they were allowed to enter the treatment suite. The charge nurse asked them to wait a moment longer and popped into Veronica’s room. A large picture window allowed nurses and visitors alike to spy into the room, but the fear of being intrusive prevented everyone but Adriana from peering inside. She pressed her hands and forehead against the glass.

Nurse Quin came back out into the hall, holding the door open with a soft smile. “You can go in. Remember—don’t mess with any of the equipment.”

Despite his initial eagerness, Jaime hung behind Calvin and Meg as the group entered the suite, led by Adriana. Reclining under a thin, baby-blue blanket on the hospital bed was Veronica. Her straight brown hair had grown frizzy around her cheeks and there was an exhaustion etched across her face, but when she saw Adriana, her eyes brightened and she tried to sit up straighter.

Adriana ran to her friend and clasped her IV-free hand. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Letting go of her hand, Veronica slung her arm around Adriana’s shoulders.

“You came,” said Veronica, her voice muffled against Adriana’s shirt. “Oh, you came. I wasn’t sure you would, since I’ve…Adri, I’m so sorry, I just—I felt like I needed…like I _deserved_ to be alone.”

“_Cariño_, what do you mean? I don’t understand.”

Veronica pulled away. It was clear that she was trying her best not to cry. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just really happy you came.”

“It’s not just me.” Adriana rubbed her nose. “Miguel’s here too, and Meg and Calvin, and…um…”

Furrowing her brow, Veronica glanced past Adriana. She sucked in a quick breath.

Jaime had stepped out from behind Calvin.

Her lip began to quiver. As Jaime walked to her bedside, her eyes welled with tears and she covered her face.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “Jaime, I’m so sorry. Jaime, Jaime…”

He sat beside her. Pulling her hands away from her face, he brushed her hair aside and whispered, “Are you okay, _mi princesa_?”

A sob slipped between Veronica’s lips. “How can you still call me that? Aren’t you mad?”

“I’m not mad. I’m terrified.” Jaime bent his head and swallowed hard. “I thought you were gonna die.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“_Lo sé, mi princesa. Lo sé._”

“Where have you been?!”

Everyone jumped at the sudden shout and turned. Through the broad window, they saw Veronica’s father standing in the middle of the hallway, face-to-face with her mother.

Panic swept across Veronica’s face and she started crying. Jaime tried to comfort her as she wailed, “No, no no no, not again…”

“Our daughter’s been here for _three_ _hours_! Where _were_ you?”

“Oh, get off your high horse! It is _not_ my fault that my phone happened to die while I was out. As for _you_, I’m surprised you managed to crawl out of bed for once!”

“‘Not your fault’? This is _all_ your fault! You did this to her!”

Meg’s parents, who had been talking to Nurse Quin, rushed over and stood between the feuding couple. It was then that Mrs. Kiley spotted her daughter.

“Ronnie!”

Mrs. Kiley burst into the room and tried to run to Veronica’s side, her husband close behind. Without a word, the kids stepped in front of Veronica and shielded her from her mother—all except Jaime, who stayed by his girlfriend’s side.

Mr. Kiley caught his wife’s arm and yanked her back. “Get away from her!”

She responded by clouting him over the head with her purse, hard enough to make him stumble.

Calvin’s hand found Meg’s. She peeked at him and saw that his jaw was tense and his eyes panicked, as if he were watching his own parents, not Veronica’s. Meg took ahold of his arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey!” Meg’s father broke them apart and dragged Mr. Kiley away from Mrs. Kiley. By this time nurses had hurried inside and were trying to stop the commotion.

The monitor next to the hospital bed started beeping rapidly. Miguel let out an alarmed yell and called for the nurses. Turning, Meg saw Veronica curled into a ball, breathing shallowly and clutching Jaime’s hands so tightly that his fingers were turning white.

“Everybody out, _now_!” The charge nurse’s booming voice sent a hush across the room, save for the angry beeping of the monitor. Meg’s mom ushered the teens out and a few nurses wrangled Veronica’s parents through the door. Jaime didn’t move. Meg watched as her father pried Jaime and Veronica’s hands apart and pulled the boy outside.

Nurses surrounded Veronica. Mrs. and Mr. Kiley hovered on opposite sides of the hall, watching their daughter through the glass. Calvin was trying to console Jaime, who had collapsed into a chair and was clutching his silver necklace like it was a lifeline. Next to them, Adriana had her head in her hands, her body shaking, while Miguel roped his arm around her shoulders and whispered to her. After a beat of hesitation, Meg walked over to Jaime, sat down, and took ahold of his hand.

Only two minutes passed before the beeping slowed to an even pace. Five minutes after that, Nurse Quin stepped into the hall and addressed Veronica’s parents.

“Your daughter just suffered a severe anxiety attack. We’ve given her a sedative and she’s going to be fine, but I have to ask that neither of you enter her room again until you’re ready to be her parents instead of a couple of raging banshees. This hospital has no tolerance for violence.”

Mrs. Kiley fumed. “How dare you! I’m her _mother_.”

“Then act like it. My job is to care for my patients, and that includes protecting them from stressors that may worsen their condition. If either you or your husband so much as raise your voice again, I will call security. Do not test me.”

Miguel spoke up quietly, his puppy-dog eyes watery. “¿_Señorita_? Is there anything we can do for Veronica?”

The nurse turned to him, her firm expression softening. “She’s going to be asleep for an hour or so, but…you know, there might be something you can do. Little things can go a long way. Can any of you braid?”

Adriana and Meg looked at each other and nodded. Even Calvin raised his hand; Meg and her mom had taught him a while back.

“How about you braid Veronica’s hair, then? It’ll make her stay here much more comfortable, trust me. Long hair is a curse in a hospital. Oh, that reminds me: which one of you is Jaime?”

Jaime stood on wobbly legs. “Me.”

Walking over to him, Nurse Quin patted his arm. “Before the sedative took effect, she was asking for you. If you can, I think it’d be good for her if you’re there when she wakes up.”

“You’re letting_ him_ into her room and not _me_?” exclaimed Mrs. Kiley indignantly.

“_He_ didn’t give her an anxiety attack,” Nurse Quin fired back.

A staring contest ensued. Tension stretched between the two women; finally, Mrs. Kiley broke eye contact with a huff. She hefted her purse on her shoulder and marched away to the far corner of the waiting room.

The charge nurse turned to Mr. Kiley. Dropping her voice, she murmured, “I recommend you and your wife sort out whatever issues you may have—_out _of earshot of your daughter.”

The man said nothing; he didn’t even look at her. Instead, he simply grabbed a chair, slid it close to the wall across from Veronica’s window, and sat in it.

A sigh slid out of Nurse Quin. She brushed her strawberry-blonde hair out of her eyes, turned back to the kids, and said, “Veronica will be sedated for a while, but as long as you don’t cause a ruckus, you may go back into her room.”


	5. sick of all the insincere (i'm gonna give all my secrets away)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica has a heart-to-heart with her friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Secrets by OneRepublic.

* * *

Adriana and Meg sat on either side of the hospital bed. Initially, they had been worried about waking Veronica, but Nurse Quin assured them that it would take some forceful stimuli to arouse her—and instructed them in an indisputable tone to not attempt doing such.

“We could give her milkmaid braids,” Adriana suggested, but Meg shook her head.

“I don’t have any pins. Do you?”

“No. Just pigtails then, I guess.”

“Cornrows?”

“You mean double Dutch?”

“Cornrows, double Dutch, boxer braids, whatever. It’ll look the same no matter which name we use.”

As Meg began plaiting Veronica’s hair, Calvin came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. He pressed his face into her hair and kissed her cheek.

“Cal, I’m busy.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet but laced with pride.

She paused and looked over her shoulder at him, doing her best to hold her place in the braid as he closed the gap between them and kissed her. The kiss was quick and sincere and brought a small smile to Meg’s face.

“Alright,” she whispered. “Shoo. I need to focus.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes, darling.”

That made her blush. “Oh, shut up.”

Calvin laughed against her neck before pulling away. “I’m gonna go grab something from the vending machine. Want anything?”

“M&Ms if they have ‘em, Starburst if they don’t.”

“Coming right up.”

He left. Meg turned back around and saw that Adriana was watching her. Both stared at each other for a heartbeat before awkwardly dropping their gazes.

A silent minute passed, filled only by Miguel and Jaime’s hushed conversation. Then, Adriana cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Meg’s head shot up and she stared at her. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Adriana said quietly. “I’ve never said that. I was too proud to. But…and this sounds crazy, I know, but I feel like I owe it to Veronica to say it now. And you, of course, but…Veronica’s my best friend, and she’s made such an effort to apologize to you. I feel like I owe it to her to do the same, to show her that I’m on her side and support her. Does that make sense?”

Meg tried not to scowl. “Not…really.”

Sighing, Adriana ducked her head. “Yeah, it doesn’t make sense to me either. But I am sorry. And I was wrong, too.”

“About what?”

“Remember when I said that, eh, Calvin is only dating you because he pities you? I was wrong. It’s clear that he…he really does like you.”

Adriana spoke in a reassuring way, as if trying to convince Meg. But with the taste of Calvin still lingering on her lips, she didn’t need convincing. “I know.”

* * *

Time passed unnaturally in hospitals. The white lights, the white walls, the white noise in the halls; when Meg checked the time on her phone, she was stunned to see that an hour had passed since Veronica’s sedation. She and Calvin had moved to sit in the stiff armchairs under the windows, snacking on their candy and quietly enjoying each other’s presence. Adriana stayed at Veronica’s bedside. For a while, so did Jaime. Then, he moved to sit next to Meg, stretching his arms and back with a mild groan.

A few silent minutes ticked by. Meg’s head rested on Calvin’s shoulder and her eyes had drifted shut, but a soft, metallic tinkling made her look up. Jaime had reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a silver necklace. Two dog tags clinked together. The boy pinched the tags between his thumb and forefinger, studying them, then enveloped them in his fist and bowed his head.

After a moment, Meg said quietly, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Jaime’s head shot up and he blinked at her, confused. “Wha—oh.” He returned his gaze to his necklace. “No, she’s not…she’s not dead. I got these”—he held up the tags by his thumb—“custom made online.”

“Oh.” Awkward silence stretched between them before Meg garnered the courage to ask him another question. “Your mom?”

“No. My sister. Jimena. She’s in the navy.”

“You must really miss her.”

Jaime’s face hardened then; a combination of sadness and bitterness flooded his eyes. Meg leaned away from him, worried that she’d pressed too far, but he sighed and whispered, “It’s been two years since I’ve talked to her.”

“What? But then…doesn’t that mean—”

“The navy would’ve notified us if she’d died or gone MIA. Mena just…doesn’t want any contact with us anymore.”

Meg stole a glance at Calvin. Her boyfriend’s lips were pinched together and, after giving her a doleful nod, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He already knew.

Returning her attention to Jaime, Meg asked him tentatively, “Do you know why?”

“Well…our mamá was really against her joining the navy. My papá’s a cop, and it’s really stressful for her. So she told Mena that she didn’t want any of her babies risking their lives like our papá risks his. They had a huge fight. And then, a week later, Mena just…up and left. In the middle of the night. She didn’t even say goodbye.”

Jaime’s voice cracked and he closed his eyes. He cleared his throat, then continued.

“Up until we confirmed it with the navy recruitment office over in Fox Hills, my brother and I were scared that she hadn’t even enlisted. That’s how bad it was. She didn’t leave a note. She didn’t tell her friends until a month later, and the only reason we know that is because her best friend showed us the email Mena sent him. And because she was eighteen, there wasn’t anything we could do.”

A tear slide down his cheek. Sniffling, he brushed it away, still clutching the tags in his fist.

Anger thrummed within Meg’s chest. How utterly cruel of Jaime’s sister. She couldn’t imagine cutting Charles Wallace out of her life, especially not after joining a potentially dangerous career path. Her fingers touched the cold metal of her locket. No wonder Jaime had been so accepting of her. He knew how it felt to be abandoned, like she did. But Meg was lucky. Her father had called out to them. He had wanted to come home.

Hesitantly Meg reached over, took Jaime’s free hand in hers, and squeezed. “I’m so sorry, Jaime.”

Jaime tried to give her a smile, though it came out strained. He squeezed her hand back. “Besides Veronica and Calvin, you’re the only person I’ve told. It’s…it’s nice to tell someone who understands.”

Meg’s throat constricted. She returned the smile as best she could. As soon as Jaime closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall behind them, she looked at Calvin. He kept his focus on his folded hands, but Meg could see from his tight jaw and tense fingers that Jaime’s statement had struck a chord with him. Jaime didn’t know that his best friend understood abandonment as sharply and deeply as he and Meg did.

Nearby, Miguel was pacing back and forth between the window and the adjoining bathroom door. Adriana looked up from where she was sitting on Veronica’s bed and wrinkled her nose. “_Amigo_, you’re gonna wear a path in the linoleum if you keep pacing.”

Her friend pulled a face but didn’t stop.

“You okay?” Calvin asked him.

“No. I’m pissed off.” Miguel cracked his knuckles, flexed his fingers, and then cracked them again. “Veronica’s parents—their daughter is in a hospital bed, and they start throwing punches? What the hell kind of parents _do_ that?”

Adriana let out a sigh. “Not everyone has white picket fence families like you and me, Miguel. Families with parents who work nine-to-five, who actually spend more time smiling together than fighting. Veronica isn’t lucky. Her parents…I knew they used to fight, but she told me that after he changed his work hours back at the end of 7th grade, everything improved. They stopped fighting.”

“Just because she doesn’t see them fight doesn’t mean they’ve stopped,” Jaime said quietly. He tucked his dog tags back under his shirt.

Calvin’s hand drifted to his stomach. Reaching over, Meg pulled it away, threading her fingers through his and resting their hands on her knee. He leaned against her as if thanking her.

Adriana regarded Veronica’s sleeping form and chewed her fingernail. “I still can’t believe…she always said it was just a diet her mom put her on. I should’ve…I should’ve been more suspicious. She seemed fine. I did hate eating over there. It was always fish and salad, kale or whatever. But Veronica never seemed to mind. Gosh, I’m such an idiot.”

Miguel finally stopped pacing. “You’re not an idiot.”

“_Pero—_”

“_No. Esto no es tu culpa. ¿Bien?_”

“_¡No! ¡No está bien! ¡Soy su mejor amiga! Debería haberlo sabido._”

“Adri—”

Calvin cut Miguel off. “If anyone is to blame, Adriana, it’s Mrs. Kiley, not you. Jaime, Meg, you guys heard how she spoke to Veronica. She was insanely critical. And Dr. Kate told Meg and me that when she went to talk to Mrs. Kiley, it was like Veronica was just a doll for her mother to play with. Like how those pageant moms on TV act with their kids. Controlling, negative, perfectionistic.”

“You…you’re saying she’s abusive,” Jaime said, his voice wavering slightly.

Adriana’s eyes grew wide. “No, no way! Veronica would’ve told me if her mom was hitting her!”

For the briefest moment, Meg and Calvin’s eyes met. They knew that wasn’t necessarily the case.

“Not all abuse is hitting,” said Calvin slowly. “If Mrs. Kiley is constantly criticizing Veronica and making her feel…bad, I guess, for how she looks or how she eats, and she forces unhealthy diets on her, then yeah. That’s abuse. And it could have a really long lasting effect, mentally and physically, which is why it’s a good thing that Veronica is gonna be in that program.”

Meg wondered if she was the only one who could hear the ache in his voice. The entire room grew solemnly silent.

Then, Veronica stirred. Everyone’s attention snapped to her and they hurried to surround her bed.

Caressing her cheek, Jaime softly said, “Veronica?”

She let out a quiet groan. Her eyelids opened just a sliver. “Jaime?”

“Hey, _mi princesa_. How’re you feeling?”

“Mmm, tired.” Then her eyes flew wide open. “My parents, are they—?”

“They’re outside. The charge nurse isn’t allowing them inside because of their fight.”

Veronica rubbed her face. “Oh, hallelujah.” She made to comb her fingers through her hair and blinked in surprise as her fingers brushed her new braids. “What…?”

Adriana patted her arm. “You like? Me and Meg did it.”

“They’re great. Thank you.” Veronica gave her friend a weak but genuine smile. Sadly, it didn’t last long. She looked around the room at the rest of the teens. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper when she spoke. “Do you know?”

The fear in Veronica’s eyes made it so tempting to don a quizzical frown and pretend that no, Meg had no idea what she was referring to. But Adriana and Calvin nodded; Miguel looked away and Jaime entwined his hand with hers.

“Your dad told us,” he said quietly.

Desperation haunted Veronica’s voice as she insisted, “They’re wrong! I’m not—I’m not like that, I’m not…I don’t starve myself or make myself sick or anything like that. I don’t have an eating disorder. I’m just on a diet.”

“Babe—” Jaime started, but Calvin touched his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. After a moment, Jaime nodded and let Calvin sit next to Veronica.

Meg watched as her boyfriend dug a Kit Kat out of his jacket, one he had bought from the vending machine. At the sight of the candy bar, Veronica averted her gaze.

“I’m guessing you probably can’t have any non-hospital foods for a while,” Calvin said. “But I just wanna know: how do you feel when you look at something like this?”

A few creases wrinkled the blue blanket that was draped over Veronica’s lap; she tried to smooth them out with trembling hands. “You’re right. The doctors said I can’t have any solid foods right now. That’s what this is for. ‘Replenishing nutrients’, they said.”

She held up her arm, showing the room her IV. Miguel wavered and coughed into his elbow. For a moment, Meg thought he might pass out.

Calvin nodded at Veronica’s explanation, his expression calm. “It’s called parenteral nutrition. I read about it a couple months ago. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I…I don’t know what you want me to say. It’s candy. I can’t have candy.”

“I didn’t ask if you could eat it. I asked how it makes you feel.”

Her hands clutched at the blanket and ruined her earlier efforts. “I want to eat it, okay? I want it.”

“How does that make you _feel_?”

“Disgusting!” Veronica snapped, setting a tearful glare upon Calvin. “Is that what you want to hear? I feel _disgusting_.”

Jaime’s mouth fell open. “Veronica…”

At the sound of his voice, she realized what she’d said. Her face turned to ash. “I…I…”

The Kit Kat wrapper crinkled as Calvin put it back in his pocket. In a low, gentle voice he said, “It may not be anorexia or bulimia, Veronica, but you do have an eating disorder.”

A tear rolled down Veronica’s cheek.

“I can only imagine how scary this must be,” continued Calvin, “but I swear to you, no one in this room thinks you’re disgusting. No one. We’re not here to judge you or criticize you. We’re here because we care about you and we’re worried. This could have killed you, Veronica. Do you understand that?”

A few silent heartbeats passed. Then Veronica whispered, “Yes.”

The tension that had filled the room seemed to implode, folding in on itself before dissipating. The hardest part was over; she wasn’t denying it anymore.

“I still don’t understand,” Jaime said. Once again he and Calvin switched places. Taking Veronica’s hand, he held it to his chest. “Why do you think you need to limit what you eat? No judgement,” he added quickly. “I just want to understand.”

“I thought…” A whimper slipped between Veronica’s lips. “I thought I was being healthy. My mom says that if I don’t watch what I eat then I’ll become fat, and if I’m fat then I’ll be lazy and unsuccessful, and she’s spent too much time and money on me for me to grow up fat, lazy, and unsuccessful. And she won’t let me go to any real auditions until I lose some more weight, either. So she put me on some diets, and if she catches me eating anything that the diets forbade, she grounds me to my room without dinner. She says that I need to follow the diets to stay healthy. And now...now just the thought of going off the diets makes me feel…ashamed. Nauseous. So I don’t—didn’t—wanna cheat on them.”

Meg wrung her hands. “Veronica, that’s abuse.”

“No! She’s overbearing most of the time, but she’d never hurt me. She’s my mom, she loves me! She just wants me to eat healthy.”

“Calling you names isn’t loving. Pushing harmful diets on you isn’t healthy. Her controlling you like that is what put you in this bed!”

Miguel suddenly spoke up. “Meg’s right.” He walked around the bed until he stood next to Adriana. “When my abuela started talking to my mamí like that, telling her that she was worthless and wasn’t good enough to marry her son, my papí cut her off. He said it was his duty to defend his family, even if that meant telling his own mother that she wasn’t invited over anymore unless she stopped bullying his wife. Parents don’t get a free pass on treating you like crap just because they’re your parents, Veronica. You deserve better.”

“Do I?” Veronica’s voice fractured like glass. “Why? Why does someone like me deserve _better_?”

“‘Someone like you’?” Worry flickered in Adriana’s eyes. “_Cariño_, what do you mean, ‘someone like you’?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know! I know Calvin said I’m not disgusting, but I _feel_ like it. I feel disgusting and worthless and I hate it! I—I hate _myself_!”

With that, the bedridden girl broke down sobbing. Immediately Adriana crawled onto the bed beside her and threw her arms around her best friend. Jaime joined in, stroking Veronica’s hair and planting kisses on top of her head. His shoulders shook with sobs of his own. Spreading his arms out wide, Miguel enveloped them all as best he could. Their voices overlapped and blended together, each one babbling comforting words to Veronica.

“We love you,” Adriana cried. “_Te queremos mucho. Mucho, mucho._”

At the same time, Jaime was saying, “You’re not worthless, _mi princesa_. You’re—you’re so lovely, so wonderful. None of this changes how I feel about you, _lo juro_.”

“You _do_ deserve better,” Miguel echoed his earlier words, “no matter if it feels like it or not. We’re your friends; we want the best for you. You deserve to be happy and healthy, Veronica. You deserve it.”

Calvin let the group have their moment and ambled over to where Meg was standing. The world was blurry with her tears; her heart felt stuck in a vice and her throat stung. When Calvin pressed his cheek to hers, she could feel that he was crying too.

All those years Veronica had bullied Meg, and she had been battling her own self-loathing the entire time. The thought tore at Meg’s soul. On the one hand, she knew that it didn’t excuse Veronica’s mistreatment of her; on the other, she couldn’t help but feel achingly empathetic toward her old friend.

“Are you okay?” Calvin murmured.

Meg shook her head. “Are you?”

“Not really. That…gosh, that sucked.”

“I’m proud of you,” she whispered, wrapping an arm around his middle and placing a hand on his chest. “I don’t think the rest of us could’ve gotten her to see the truth.”

“It doesn’t feel like something to be proud of,” Calvin confessed. He sniffed and wiped at his face.

“You did a good thing, Cal. How could she move forward if she was still in denial?”

He only shrugged. She could tell that this whole ordeal was weighing on him more than he’d ever want to admit. So, in an effort to cheer him up, Meg said, “Y’know, I was right about something.”

“What?”

“You do have a good bedside manner, Dr. O’Keefe.”

It took Calvin a second to remember the moment she was referring to. A small but genuine smile tugged at his mouth. “If you say so.” Sadly, the smile didn’t last long. “C’mon. We better go tell your parents. And Nurse Quin. They need to know about this.”

Five minutes later, Calvin, Meg, her parents, and Nurse Quin sat sequestered in an unoccupied treatment suite, out of earshot of Mr. and Mrs. Kiley. The young couple relayed everything that Veronica had said about how her mother had been treating her. When they finished, Nurse Quin sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Thank you for informing me of this. If it’s what I think it is, then I need to call CPS.”

Calvin pursed his lips together. “Because you’re a mandatory reporter, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“What’ll happen to Veronica?” Meg asked. Her mother put her arm around her and pulled her close.

“Honestly? I don’t know. That’s up to CPS. I’ve reported abuse cases where the child was put into foster care. I’ve had cases where they were sent to live with relatives, and I’ve had cases where the parents divorced and one parent retained full custody. And sadly, I’ve had cases where nothing at all came of the investigation.”

Calvin squirmed. Placing a hand on his back, Meg rubbed soothing circles on his shoulder blade.

Nurse Quin noticed his sudden discomfort, though she misinterpreted the cause. “I know it’s scary seeing your friend suffering from something like this. You kids—all of you—are being so brave and very helpful. As terrifying as a seizure is, it brought her here, where she can receive the help she needs. We are very fortunate that we were able to catch this before Veronica’s eating disorder evolved into anorexia or bulimia.”

Meg’s father leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What can we do to help?”

“For now, I would rather that none of you tell Veronica or her parents about my decision to call CPS. I’d prefer they hear it from a medical professional. But it would be helpful for me if you all stayed a while longer. Veronica needs stability and support, and I don’t trust her parents to be in the state of mind to provide that when CPS arrives to investigate. They’ve already proven to be quite a handful.”

After exchanging a long, slow glance, Meg’s parents nodded at Nurse Quin. 

“We’ll stay as long as we can.”


	6. light will lead the way to set you free (i'm only looking for a little peace)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica speaks with the doctor about her disorder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Shine A Light by BANNERS (aka one of my favorite songs, I highly recommend it).

* * *

Jaime laid beside Veronica on her hospital bed, his arm around her shoulders. The couple was playing some type of game, the kind that improv actors play during rehearsals. Veronica would make up two lines of a story and Jaime would make up the next two, back and forth until the story was completely nonsensical. Jaime shocked everyone by demonstrating the ability to perfectly mimic an Australian accent. For the first time since she fainted, Calvin heard Veronica giggle.

Nearly an hour ago, Adriana had fallen asleep in an armchair next to Calvin. A grey hoodie—Miguel’s—was draped over her like a blanket. On the floor sat Meg and Miguel, their math books open and worksheets strewn across the white linoleum. Miguel was hunched over and clutching at his hair in frustration.

“But what does this mean?” he was saying, gesturing toward his homework. “These equations, _no comprendo_. What does the ‘m’ mean?”

Meg pointed to the equation with her pencil. “The ‘m’ is the slope of the line.”

“But how do you find the slope?”

“You find two points on the line and then divide the difference of the y-coordinates by the difference of the x-coordinates.”

Miguel stared at her blankly.

“Or you can just count,” Meg said. “Rise-over-run. Start at one point and count vertically until you’re on the same line as the other point, then count horizontally until you reach the point. See, like this.” She touched the tip of her pencil to the first point and counted until she reached the second. “Six up, three over, right?”

“Right…”

“So when we view it as rise-over-run, it becomes 6/3, which equals what?”

“Two.”

“And that’s your slope. When you plug that into the equation, it becomes y = 2x + b. Now you just have to find ‘b’.”

Miguel flopped onto his back, mumbling Spanish curses under his breath.

Movement in the doorway drew Calvin’s attention. Nurse Quin entered the room, trailing behind a Samoan woman in a white doctor’s coat. The doctor waved her hand at Jaime, gesturing for him to get off the bed. “I am going to have to ask you children to leave. I need to speak with Veronica.”

The bedridden girl’s eyes grew wide with worry. Adriana groggily lifted her head and Meg and Miguel clambered to their feet. Jaime started to climb off the bed, but Veronica grabbed his arm. “No. No, I want my friends to stay.”

Nurse Quin nodded, but the doctor pushed her wire-rim glasses up farther on her nose and frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The doctor didn’t seem very pleased with her decision, but she said nothing further about it. Pulling a chair up to Veronica’s bedside, she swept her thick French braid behind her shoulder. Her voice was stiff and raspy when she spoke, almost like she didn’t use it often. “My name is Dr. Perelini. I was here when you first came in. Do you remember? You were in-and-out of consciousness for a while.”

Veronica bit her lip. “Yeah, sorta. Your voice is familiar.”

“Good, good. Now, onto the questions: Does your mother restrict your diet? Make you cut out entire food groups, such as grains or dairy?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you find yourself still feeling hungry after meals? Or have you gone to bed hungry?”

Another yes.

“Do you sneak food to satisfy your hunger?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Shame darkened Veronica's eyes and her hands clutched at her bedsheets. She glanced at Calvin, then up at Jaime. He gave her a supportive nod. “The thought of doing that…makes me feel sick.”

Nurse Quin's lips pinched into a thin, pitying line.

Continuing, Dr. Perelini asked, “If you do not follow the diet, does she deny you food?”

“…Yes.”

A sigh slid out of the doctor. “That is what we were afraid of.”

Veronica tensed. Next to her, Jaime tightened his hold around her shoulder. A deep frown cut across his face. “What’s going on?”

Dr. Perelini glanced up at the charge nurse before saying, “Based on what we have learned about your condition, Veronica, Nurse Quin here has contacted Child Protective Services. A social worker is here now. She would like to speak with you.”

“Child Protective Services?” Veronica squeaked. “For…for an eating disorder?”

“The kind you may have, yes. We have reason to suspect that your mother is also suffering from one. Orthorexia nervosa. For you, orthorexia nervosa by proxy.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“That is not surprising. It is a fairly unknown disorder, though becoming more and more common in today’s day and age. Basically, it is an unhealthy obsession with ‘pure’ or ‘healthy’ eating that a caregiver imposes on those in their care.”

Calvin crossed his arms. That description sounded like one he'd recently read in one of Dr. Kate's biology magazines. “You mean, like a sort of Munchausen’s by proxy?”

“Not exactly. In fact, it is almost the opposite. MSBP involves a caretaker, usually a mother, who claims that their child suffers from an illness or even causes that child to be ill through poisoning or other methods. It is about gaining control as well as attention and sympathy from others. Someone suffering from orthorexia, on the other hand, is not looking for attention or sympathy, though control is a big part of it. They are driven by the desire to eat only what they consider ‘healthy’—not necessarily what is factually healthy, mind you—even if that means getting rid of entire food groups.”

As the doctor’s explanation drew to a close, Veronica blinked rapidly, her eyelashes beaded with tears. “Exactly how much trouble is my mom in?”

Patting her arm, Dr. Perelini said, “Jail time is unlikely. If we are right, then she has an illness. A mental one. She may have to enter a program similar to yours.”

Nurse Quin spoke up now. “Please do me and your friends a favor, Veronica, and tell the social worker the truth. None of us want you to end up back in this bed, and if you cover for your mother then I’m afraid you probably will.”

The doctor leaned back in her seat. She brushed a stray hair out of her eyes. “But when you speak with her, your friends cannot stay. That is the social worker’s requirement, not mine.”

The six teens exchanged apprehensive glances. Right now, they were acting as Veronica’s shield, her comfort—none of them wanted to take that sense of security away from her by leaving.

“I’ll be staying,” assured Nurse Quin. She must've seen their reactions. “You won’t be alone.”

Veronica’s bottom lip trembled as she asked, “Can I talk to my boyfriend before she comes in? Just for a couple minutes?”

“Yes, you may.”

* * *

A couple minutes turned into fifteen. The social worker—a petite woman with sharp cheekbones and rosy skin—kept checking her watch and tapping her acrylic nails on her clipboard. Dr. Perelini had left the PICU and Nurse Quin was helping another patient, leaving behind no one with the heart to interrupt Jaime and Veronica’s conversation.

Miguel had grabbed his math homework before leaving the suite. He sat next to Adriana on a plush loveseat in the waiting room, a pencil between his teeth and a worksheet in his hands. Leaning close to Adriana, he pointed to a problem and mumbled something around the pencil. She only waved her hand with an indifferent shrug. Miguel’s shoulders slumped.

Meg watched Jaime and Veronica through the treatment suite’s window. Jaime had moved to sit on the edge of the bed so he could face Veronica directly. Fear was etched across her face; her boyfriend threaded his fingers through hers and said something with a frown. Veronica responded with a quick shake of her head and a long period of speaking. At the end of her spiel, Jaime brushed her cheek with his thumb, nodding along. Then, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Meg had never seen the couple kiss before. It made her wonder how she and Calvin looked to others when they kissed. Jaime looked like he was whispering to Veronica while he kissed her, which he might’ve actually been doing; he would pull away until their lips barely touched, hover there for a full breath, and then kiss her again.

How did Calvin kiss her? Oddly enough, Meg wasn’t sure. Kissing him came so naturally to her now that it was like asking herself how she breathed. She curled her lips inward, thinking.

A sudden trilling startled her out of her reverie. A phone was ringing at the nurse’s station. Realizing that her unfocused gaze was still set upon the kissing couple, Meg quickly turned her back and coughed awkwardly.

Her eyes landed on Calvin, standing alone in the corner and scrolling through his phone. He must’ve felt her gaze on him; he raised his head and met her eyes, giving her a soft, sad smile. A longing slammed Meg’s heart against her chest. She suddenly felt achingly hollow, like someone had scraped her soul out of her body. Before Meg could think twice, she marched over to her boyfriend and grabbed his hand.

“C’mere,” she whispered, and led him into a side corridor out of the others’ line of sight. A few nurses and a doctor strode past, but they were too busy talking to each other or reading charts to mind them. Meg kept to the wall, her back to it like she was worried someone might try to sneak up on her.

“What?” Calvin sounded confused and worried at her urgency. “Meg, what is it?”

She said nothing, instead grabbing the front of his hoodie and tugging him into a kiss. It lasted only a second—Calvin pulled away and tried to ask, “What’s wrong?”—but Meg pressed her mouth right back to his. He hesitated before giving in and returning the kiss.

Meg focused on the way his mouth moved against hers, memorizing it, branding it into her mind. It was funny, she realized, how predictable he was when she let him lead. There was a familiarity to his kisses, but not a mundaneness. He liked to draw away early, causing her to seek after him with lips parted more than they had been a moment previous until their kisses were open and full of longing. She sunk into his embrace, reveling in his touch and completely forgetting to consider how they must look to others.

All too soon, Calvin broke away. His lips were pink and he was breathless. Meg tried to kiss him again, but he pulled back and held her at her elbows. Concern made his jaw pulse. “Meg. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

She hadn’t intended on saying anything; she’d convinced herself that everything was alright and that she was seeking his touch out of curiosity, not out of a need for comfort or solidarity. But then a sob bubbled in her throat and she shuddered with the effort of swallowing it, and when the next sob came she couldn’t hold it back. Calvin cupped her cheek, his eyes an ocean of worry.

All Meg could manage was a pathetic, “It’s just been such a long day,” before she collapsed into tears. Calvin wasted no time enveloping her in his arms, murmuring comforting words that were muffled by her hair. But soon enough his own voice faltered and he couldn’t speak either. When her knees buckled he followed her to the floor, using the wall to slow their descent.

That was how her father found them—huddled together against the wall, a mess of limbs and tears. He knelt beside them, kissed the tops of their heads, and gave them each a gentle shake. 

“Hey, hey. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m taking you kiddos home.”

Meg looked up at him through tear-streaked glasses. “But Veronica—”

“Mom is staying behind for another hour or so to make sure she settles in for the night alright. We’ve been here for four hours, Megaparsec, and we’re all hungry and exhausted. You’ve done all you can for Veronica today. Now, you need to take care of yourselves.”

“Can we say goodbye before we go?” Calvin asked, rubbing his nose and sniffing.

“Of course.”

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?”

“Nah,” Jaime said, clapping Calvin on the back. The two of them were standing with Meg next to Veronica’s bedside, saying their good-byes. Miguel and Adriana had stepped out to grab food from the vending machine. “Julian’s gonna pick me up after his lacrosse game. Our mamá was gonna do it, but now her manager’s making her stay until closing and so she asked him to get me. Papá’s still at the precinct. You know how he gets when he’s on a case; nothing can pull him away.”

An apologetic frown curved Calvin’s lips. “What about your abuelita?”

Jaime shook his head. “Her eyes’ve got too bad for her to drive. I’m just glad Julian finally got his license. But honestly…I don’t really wanna leave.” He turned his attention to Veronica, who was frowning. “I’m scared to leave you alone,” he admitted to her.

“What do you think I’m gonna do?” Veronica asked, voice defensive.

Jaime’s eyes softened. “Not you, babe. Your mom. I’m scared that I’m gonna wake up tomorrow and find out that she somehow got you discharged too early or pulled you out of that program. _Algo así_.”

“My—” Calvin stopped himself. His face turned pink and he looked oddly sheepish. “Uh, Meg’s mom is staying for a while longer to make sure that nothing like that happens. Besides, I don’t think that security guard’ll let Mrs. Kiley inside.”

They all looked through the suite window. A bald, wiry security guard stood next to the door to Veronica’s suite. What he lacked in size he made up for with a steely stare that, when Meg had walked past him, had made her inch closer to Calvin.

Before gathering his things, Calvin gave Jaime a tight hug, then squeezed Veronica’s hand and wished her well. Meg turned to leave as well, but her heart jolted in her chest. Without thinking, she whirled back around and embraced Veronica. The other girl let out a startled squeak.

“I forgive you,” whispered Meg. “I forgive you, for everything.”

Veronica returned the hug with a shuddering sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Untangling herself from Veronica’s quivering arms, Meg took her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Before my dad came back, someone really, really wise and really, really old”—Calvin huffed a quiet laugh at that—“told me, ‘The wound is the place where the light enters you.’ Rumi. Persian.”

“I…I don’t understand,” Veronica replied, blinking away tears.

“You will. I promise you, you will.”

* * *

It wasn’t until Meg stepped out into the dimming light of evening that she realized how effectively the bright white walls of the hospital had been slowly suffocating her. The transition jarred her; her eyes strained in the low light and the fresh, crisp air stung her skin. It felt like she had jumped into a cold pool after a hot, dry day: at first harsh and unwelcome, but soon refreshing and a balm to her weary soul.

Calvin felt it too. His entire face relaxed, even as a breeze swept through the trees and made him shiver.

As they waited, Meg cast an amused glance at Calvin. “So…did you almost say, ‘my mom’ earlier when talking about _my_ mom?”

The pink returned to Calvin’s cheeks. “Maybe,” he mumbled.

A flurry of butterflies fluttered in Meg’s stomach and a giddy grin spread across her face. “That’s so cute. _You’re_ so cute.”

Calvin grumbled in embarrassment. She ran her hands up and down his arms to warm him, all the while humming compliments.

“You’re so cute and smart…capable and caring…and a great kisser,” she added with a teasing arch of her eyebrow.

“Sounds like you’re describing yourself,” replied Calvin, trying to deflect in a cheeky manner, but Meg could tell that he was absolutely delighted. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and she wrapped hers around his middle. “Man,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair, “I can’t wait to go home.”


	7. a house of cards from a worn-out deck (a home from the fellowship)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veronica comes home from the hospital, and the group of teens spend the afternoon together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life & college has been really pulling my brain in a multitude of directions, and I'm sorry that this chapter has taken me so long to publish. But I'm glad for the time I had to dwell on this chapter and the ones that will follow it; I've figured several things out that I hadn't thought of until very recently, to the betterment of this series.
> 
> The chapter title is from Élan by Nightwish.

* * *

Veronica wasn’t released from the hospital until Monday afternoon, two hours after school let out and one hour after a package arrived at the Murrys’ door. As the time neared six o’clock, Meg stared at the yellow gift bag resting on the island in front of her, anxiety solidifying in her stomach. White and purple tissue paper stuck out of the top of the bag, concealing the present she had bought for Veronica. She couldn’t decide whether or not she should actually give it to her.

Back when they’d been close, Veronica had loved playing with Littlest Pet Shop. Because of this, Meg had spent most of her Saturday morning perusing Amazon for an LPS-related gift that she thought her old friend would like. But even though she’d managed to find something cute, she wished she knew more about Veronica’s current interests. It didn’t help that Veronica had invited her, Calvin, Jaime, Miguel, and Adriana over to her house for a quiet get-together that evening, so there was a chance she’d embarrass herself in front of all of them, not just Veronica.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Calvin’s voice broke through Meg’s thoughts. He was leaning against the kitchen table, wearing his favorite yellow Hufflepuff tee and watching with her with a soft smile. “She’s just gonna be happy that you wanted to get her something.”

“That’s what Mom said,” Meg mumbled in response, resting her elbows on the island and her chin in her hands. “But what if she thinks it’s stupid? Like, what if she fakes being happy but she really hates it and it makes her sad that I don’t know her well enough to get her something she’ll actually like?”

“You’re overthinking it,” her boyfriend replied gently. “I promise. If you want, I’ll give it to her.”

“No,” Meg said, her curls bouncing against her cheeks as she gave her head a shake. “No, I’ll do it. I just need to…not think about it.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then snatched the bag off the counter and marched to the backdoor. “Let’s go before I freak and change my mind.”

Charles Wallace caught up with them as they reached the gate that lead to the alley between the Murry and Kiley houses. Beside him, on a leash, trotted Fortinbras. “We’re coming too,” he declared, then unlatched the gate and stepped into the alley without waiting to hear their response. Meg rolled her eyes, sighing, while Calvin just chuckled.

It had been years since Meg had stepped foot in the Kiley’s backyard. Several things had changed: where a swing set had stood in the corner by the fence, there now stood a plastic toolshed. A small fire pit sat in the center of the patio, the cool spring wind batting the flames from side to side. An array of wicker seating surrounded the fire pit in a u-shape; Miguel and Adriana lounged upon a loveseat with yellow floral cushions, which sat directly across from two matching chairs. In between their loveseat and the chairs, overlooking the whole backyard, was a loveseat with green and white polka-dotted cushions. Curled up on that one was Veronica, lounging with both a blanket and Jaime’s arm wrapped around her frame. A smoothie rested on the end table next to her. 

Despite the amber evening sky and the crisp air, a darkness shadowed Veronica’s face. She rested her head against Jaime’s chest listlessly, tracing the veins on the back of his hand while she listened to him talk. But as soon as she saw Fortinbras, her eyes brightened. Sitting up, she whistled softly and beckoned him toward her. Charles Wallace let go of the leash and Fort ambled happily forward. Veronica leaned down, scratching his ears and giggling when he licked her cheek.

“Hey, puppy,” she cooed. “How are you?”

“I thought you might like to see him,” said Charles Wallace, rocking back on his heels. “It’s been two years since Bella died, right?”

Veronica looked at him in surprise. “Yeah…how’d you know?”

“Meg told me,” he replied simply.

His sister bit the inside of her cheek. No, she hadn’t.

Glancing at Meg, Veronica’s gaze fell on the bright pink bag in her hands. Heat crawled up Meg’s neck. She shuffled forward, presenting the gift and refusing to meet Veronica’s eyes. “This is for you.”

“Really?” Veronica squeaked, the grin she’d given Fortinbras broadening.

Meg nodded. Her old—new?—friend took the bag from her and started digging through the tissue paper. Calvin settled into the wicker chair beside Jaime and Veronica’s loveseat and said, a big smile on his face, “She spent like, two full hours scouring the internet before she picked this.”

The flush that had overtaken Meg’s cheeks grew even warmer. She buried her face in her hands with an incoherent whine before plopping into the chair next to his. Charles Wallace sat on the cement patio and leaned against his sister’s legs.

The first thing Veronica pulled out of the bag was a white envelope. She set the bag in Jaime’s lap as she opened the envelope and read the card Meg had slid inside. Most of what Meg had written was, admittedly, borrowed from the speech Mrs Which had delivered on Orion. She could still hear Mrs Which’s voice in her mind, as clear as the gems that had adorned the celestial woman’s brow. In order to make the rhythm read more naturally than spoken words, Meg had amended the wording slightly:

_Think about how many events and choices had to occur since the birth of the universe to lead to the making of you, exactly the way you are._

_ —the Murrys (& Calvin)_

_P.S. Here’s my cell #:_

_—Meg_

Tears sprang up in Veronica’s eyes. She gave Meg a soft smile and whispered her thanks. Placing the card back in the envelope, Veronica set the letter on the metal end table before reaching into the bag to uncover the gift. Nerves made Meg’s heartbeat pound against her ribs. A moment later, Veronica pulled out a stuffed dog, its oversized head nodding like a bobblehead. It was brown with white patches and its body was tiny in proportion to its head. Embarrassment washed over Meg. It looked absolutely ridiculous. She shouldn’t have got it.

So it came as a shock when, after taking a second to process what she was looking at, Veronica let out a delighted laugh. “Oh my gosh, is this Littlest Pet Shop?”

Meg nodded, her face still hot with self-consciousness.

A large grin graced Veronica’s face. “It looks just like that one terrier with the purple collar, the one that came with the café playset!”

“The one you lost after we took a bagful of them to the park,” added Meg, a nostalgic smile of her own tugging at her lips. “I remember.”

“You remember,” Veronica echoed. She hugged the stuffed dog to her chest, plopping her chin on top of its head. “Thank you. I love it.”

Ducking her head, Meg mumbled, “No problem.” She felt Calvin poke her arm; when she looked his way, he gave her a thumbs up and a shining smile.

“I told you so,” he mouthed. She flicked his nose.

The warmth from the fire crackled through the air as the teens lapsed into leisurely conversation. A few light stories were exchanged; Jaime had a seemingly unending trove of drama club tales up his sleeve, to which Veronica added small quips and comments. At one point, Adriana asked what Fortinbras’ name was, and the face she pulled when Charles Wallace told her nearly made Meg snort.

Jaime’s face, on the other hand, lit up. “Ay, yeah, I remember, when our club was trying to decide which Shakespeare play to do, Veronica mentioned that your dog was named after a character from Hamlet.”

Calvin smirked. “They’ve also got a cat named Rosencrantz, like from Hamlet. She’s a little sweetheart. Though she could probably use a pal named Guildenstern,” he added, raising his eyebrows at Meg.

She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t give my dad any more ideas. When he found out we’d got another pet, it was all my mom could do to convince him not to get another. He especially wants to get one of those little corn snakes someday.”

“I bet Louise wasn’t much help with that,” Veronica reached for her smoothie, a smile curving her lips upwards.

Meg blinked. “You remember Dr. Louise?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Veronica mumbled around her straw. She took a moment to drink before continuing. “Remember that time you cut your leg on the seesaw at school, and she would come over to check on your stitches? I was there one of those times, the time she brought her boa constrictor to cheer you up. What was its name again?”

“Nagi! He’s almost fifteen years old now, can you believe it? I saw him a few months ago”—Dr. Louise had brought the large, mild-mannered snake over one afternoon when both Meg and Calvin still had mono—“and he’s doing really well.”

As they chattered about Dr. Louise and Nagi, Calvin and Charles Wallace made comments here and there and Jaime listened with a relaxed curiosity, but neither Adriana nor Miguel seemed to know how to contribute to the conversation. Meg didn’t think anything of it at first, especially since she had been in the exact same position more times than she could count. But then, Charles Wallace suddenly gave a slight shake of his head, like he had water in his ears, and said, voice tinged with annoyance, “If you want me to leave, just _ask_.”

The older kids stopped talking and gave him confused looks. Meg glanced around the group and saw that Miguel was staring at her brother like a deer in headlights. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.

Meg let out an awkward laugh and stood. “One moment.” She took her brother’s hand and walked him over to the gate. Once they were far enough away, she crouched down until she was eye level with him and whispered, “What just happened?”

An apologetic frown weighed down the corners of Charles Wallace’s mouth. “I’m sorry. That boy—not Veronica’s boyfriend, the other one.”

“Miguel?”

“Miguel. Well, you know how Calvin and Dr. Louise sometimes put walls up in their minds?”

“Yeah?”

“Miguel is the opposite. I don’t even have to try. It’s like…it’s like his mind is a leaky faucet. He’s sending his thoughts out into the open, over and over again. I don’t think he knows he’s doing it, but it’s overwhelming, to be frank. I know I shouldn’t have said anything, but when I felt that he wanted me to leave so you guys can actually talk about Veronica’s sickness, it irked me that he wouldn’t just _ask_.”

“Wait, wait…” Shaking her head, Meg took a couple seconds to process her little brother’s words. "You’re saying that Miguel is like you?”

“Sort of. Like I said, I don’t think he knows he’s doing it. I think I’m only able to hear him because I’m so naturally inli—in—” Charles Wallace fumbled for his words momentarily. “…_inclined_ to it. There we go. Most of it seems to be pointed toward that girl next to him, as if his mind is trying to connect with hers, the way Calvin’s and yours do, and yours and mine. He really cares for her.”

Meg snorted. “No offense, Biscuits, but you don’t have to be telepathic to figure that out.”

Charles Wallace didn’t smile. “It’s hurting him deeply,” he told her solemnly. “He feels like she takes him for granted. Like their friendship isn’t as important to her as it is to him.”

“Oh. Um.” Not knowing how to respond to that, Meg shifted the subject slightly. “Um, well, I, uh, know he’s close with his family. Maybe someone else in his family is like you. Like, actually like you, and their connection with him has left his mind open. Like walkie talkies on the same frequency and Miguel holds the talk button down out of habit.”

Her brother gave a thoughtful nod. “Solid theory. I approve. Whatever the case, I think I’ll go home now. Keep Fort here for Veronica. He’s good for her.”

He kissed her cheek before leaving. When Meg returned to the others, Calvin shot her a questioning look. She shook her head, mouthing the word _Later_. As she went to sit in her old spot, Calvin caught her and pulled her onto his lap. Meg grumbled but slung her arm around his neck, shifting until she was comfortable.

Calvin pressed his mouth to her ear and murmured, “Is Charles Wallace okay?”

“Mmm-hmm. But like I said, later.”

“Okay.”

Trying to stamp down her self-consciousness, Meg peeked at the others. No one was paying her and Calvin any mind. She sighed with relief and snuggled a bit closer to her boyfriend. His arms found a home around her waist.

Meg studied Miguel. The thought that there were others like Charles Wallace had never truly occurred to her. But it made sense; statistically, it was far more probable that her brother wasn’t alone in his abilities. She wondered if Miguel had the potential to grow as intuitive as her brother, or if maybe there was someone else in their class who already was. Was this something that everyone had the capacity to learn? Was it genetic? Divine?

Calvin’s whisper jolted her out of her thoughts. “Meg, you’re staring.”

She blinked, eyes snapping into focus. He was right—she was gawking at Miguel. She quickly averted her gaze. “Oh.”

“Did he do something?” Concern colored Calvin’s tone, but Meg also heard a smidge of protective gruffness. It made thread her fingers through his, a happy warmth reddening her cheeks. After so many years of not having anyone who would stand up for her against her classmates, it meant a lot knowing that he felt protective over not only her, but her little brother as well.

“No. I mean…nothing bad or intentional. Don’t worry.”

Before Calvin could reply, Veronica cleared her throat, capturing the attention of the entire group. The darkness that had surrounded her earlier had returned; her shoulders were slumped, her mouth pursed into a thin line. “Uh, so…I need to tell you guys something.”

Jaime rubbed her shoulder and Adriana bowed her head; it appeared they already knew what she was about to say.

Veronica took a deep breath; when she spoke, her voice wavered and cracked. “My dad filed for divorce last night.”

An aching sympathy tore at Meg’s heart, though she couldn’t exactly say she was surprised. Calvin’s grip around her tightened ever so slightly. “He left?”

“No.” Sniffling, Veronica said, “He’s seeking full custody of me. My mom is, uh, gonna go stay with her sister in Pasadena. Maybe. After he gave her the divorce papers, they got into their biggest fight yet. I…I almost called the cops.”

Meg’s mouth went dry. The memory of Calvin’s bloody torso and glass-riddled wound leapt to the forefront of her mind, unbidden and unwanted. “Did they hurt you?”

The tearful girl shook her head. “I was in my room. But they broke a lamp and knocked some picture frames off the wall. It was so loud and they kept saying my name and I—I—”

It was a good thing Charles Wallace had left; Miguel started muttering a string of curses in both English and Spanish, cracking his knuckles. Calvin had grown tense against Meg. She could feel his anger and frustration in the heat of his skin. How hadn’t they heard the fight? Granted, there was a fair amount of distance between the two houses—both had large backyards and the alley between them was wide—but shame burned in Meg’s chest. They should have _known_.

Veronica hiccuped with the effort of holding back a sob. “They’re splitting up because of _me_.”

Jaime wrapped her in a firm hug, his cheek buried in her hair. “Hey, hey, this isn’t your fault.”

“Not at all,” echoed Adriana. She reached over to take her friend’s hand.

Beside her, Miguel flexed his fingers, ran them through his hair, and cracked them against his palm again. “Maybe…this is for the best.”

“Miguel!” Adriana exclaimed, the timbre of her voice similar to one a teacher might use to chide a petulant kid. She shot him a disapproving glare.

Meg cringed; she wouldn’t have used such a tone with Charles Wallace, much less someone her own age. If it weren’t for what her brother had told her earlier, she wouldn’t have noticed the wounded look that flashed across Miguel’s face as briefly as a strike of lightning. The boy crossed his arms, though it seemed to Meg more of a defensive action than a defiant one.

“I’m just saying what everyone else is too afraid to say,” he grumbled under his breath.

Adriana scowled. But before she could say anything, Meg found herself saying, “I agree with Miguel. A weakened immune system is more susceptible to viruses, and I think it’s the same way for the mind, too.”

Her words were met with odd stares. She tried to think of a way to explain herself better, but her tongue felt tangled in knots.

Thankfully, Calvin sensed her apprehension. “Meg’s trying to say that because of your mom’s abuse, you’re still vulnerable. Without distance from her, there’s no guarantee that you’ll be protected from her abuse. You need time to heal, safely away from her. But having mixed feelings about her leaving is—is normal.” His grip on Meg’s hand grew the slightest bit tighter. “You’re scared and guilt-ridden…and relieved. And that’s _okay_. There’s no right way to feel in a situation like this,” he ended, echoing the words Meg’s mom had told him the day after his father left.

Eyes wide and watering, Veronica sniffled, “But…but she loves me, I know she does. She thought she was doing what’s best for me—that’s what orthorexia _is_.”

“Even if her intentions were good, she still hurt you.” Miguel’s voice was both gentle in tone and intense in conviction. “She manipulated you, _abused_ you. Just because she’s your mom doesn’t mean she deserves to be in your life.”

“Miguel, _¡cállate!_” Adriana snapped. “Use your eyes—can’t you see she’s upset? You’re being insensitive and you’re _not_ helping.”

Miguel stared at Adriana. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and for a second Meg wasn’t sure if he was going to retort or cry. Then he simply stood up and left, crossing the grass to the gate and exiting into the alley.

Meg didn’t know what came over her. Maybe it was what her brother had told her, or maybe it was how Miguel had looked sorrier than a kicked puppy. Or maybe it was how, for a moment, Meg had seen herself reflected in what Miguel had said and how he had said it. Whatever the reason, it propelled her off Calvin’s lap, across the yard, and into the alley.

“Miguel, wait!”

Heaving a sigh, the boy turned to face her. “What do you want, Murry?” There was no venom in his voice; in fact, he sounded more exhausted than anything.

She had meant to tell him to come back, that he didn’t have to leave. But instead, she blurted out, “Do you have any siblings?”

Miguel blinked at her, taken aback. “Uh. _Sí_. I have a sister. Caterina.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten.”

Meg couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “I figured. I know a big sibling when I see one.” After several long moments of silence, she switched gears. “What you said back there…you were right. Though, maybe you could’ve waited a while until you said anything. Still…Veronica needed to hear it. There’s nothing wrong with standing up for the people you care about, even if you’re standing up for them _to_ them. And Adriana shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. She’s not the boss of you.”

“I know that,” Miguel snapped; then, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Look, I don’t want to talk about her.”

She knew she should respect him and drop it, but there was a sadness in his eyes that made her press farther. “Have you ever considered that maybe you spend all of your time protecting your friends and not enough time protecting yourself?”

The boy shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

“Don’t let anyone take you for granted,” Meg continued. “No matter how close to them you are or what your feelings for them might be.”

That made Miguel’s eyes widen slightly. “How—?”

He stopped and looked over her shoulder. Meg followed his gaze and saw that Calvin had stepped through the gate.

“Hey, Miguel, Adriana wanted to know if you were still here.”

Miguel huffed. “And she couldn’t come check herself?”

“I—”

“_Olvídalo. Dile a ella que me fui_.”

“_¿Estás seguro?_” Calvin asked, but Miguel had already taken off down the alley toward the street.

“Miguel,” Meg called. She was surprised when he stopped, though he didn’t turn around. “Stay. Not for Adriana. For yourself. For the guilt that you’ll feel when you get home and realize that you left Veronica, not Adriana.”

Her classmate shifted his weight from foot to foot, head bowed. A couple seconds passed; then, he kicked a rock, watched it bounce against the wooden fence, and finally turned to face her.

“Why’d you ask me about my sister?”

Meg hadn’t been expecting that. She thought for a moment before smiling and saying, “Intuition.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow. “You sound like her.”

“I’m honored,” she replied sincerely. “But I suspect she may have more in common with my brother than with me.”

Understanding illuminated Miguel’s eyes, but it dimmed so quickly that Meg wasn’t sure if she had imagined it. He sniffed and rubbed at his nose. “_Bien_. I’ll come back. For Veronica.”

“And for yourself.”

Once back in the yard, Meg reclaimed her spot on Calvin’s lap while Miguel went over to Veronica and apologized. She squeezed his hand, telling him that she appreciated how much he cared. Apparently, after he and Meg had left, Calvin had echoed his sentiments in a composed, diplomatic manner that had proven more effective at helping Veronica understand their feelings.

Throughout this exchange, Adriana watched Miguel expectantly, and when he turned away from Veronica she shifted to make room on the loveseat. But he didn’t even look her way as he sat in Meg’s abandoned chair next to where she now sat on Calvin’s lap. Confusion knit Adriana’s brow together.

Jaime smoothed a lock of Veronica’s hair between his fingers as he said, “We were just talking about what to do if Elle finds out.”

Dread settled in Meg’s stomach. She hadn’t even thought of that. If Elle found out, not only would the whole school know, but she would use it to make Veronica’s life hell. It was because of Veronica that Elle had gotten suspended, and Meg had never known her to pass up a chance for revenge.

“I think all we can really do is agree to keep quiet about it,” Calvin mused sadly. He fiddled with Meg’s bracelet. “Veronica should be the only one free to tell anyone else outside this group. The rest of us need to keep our mouths shut.”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

“If Elle does find out,” Veronica started, her voice quiet, “would you guys mind lying for me? Like, Adri, Calvin—people trust you guys. You’re more popular than Elle, so if you tell everyone she’s just spreading lies…I think they’d believe you over her. And I really don’t want the whole school to know about my…disorder.”

“Of course we’ll lie,” declared Adriana, giving her best friend a fierce nod. “You shouldn’t have to live with everyone knowing about this.”

Veronica cast an unsure glance toward Calvin, but he mirrored Adriana’s nod. “We’ll have to figure out a different explanation for your seizure and fainting spell,” he considered slowly. “Especially since everyone in gym heard me tell Coach you were hypoglycemic. I can do some research and figure out something we can tell everyone you have. Something temporary and not-serious that people won’t question. We can say you’re being treated for that when you’re not at school.”

“You guys are amazing.” A single tear rolled down Veronica's cheek. She wiped it away with the sleeve of her cardigan. “Thank you.”

Raising her hand, Meg asked, “Do you guys know what Elle’s deal is? I mean, why’s she so…” She waved her hand in the air vaguely. “…_Elle_?”

Adriana and Veronica exchanged a long glance. Veronica looked away first, looping her arm through Jaime’s and pressing her cheek against her shoulder.

“Well…” began Adriana, “Elle’s parents have basically forgotten she exists.”

Calvin let out a quiet huff of air, like someone had elbowed him in the stomach.

Adriana continued. “Like, they act like they’re the perfect family, but all they really do is throw money at her and let her do whatever she wants. It’s really weird. There’re times where it seems like they’re treating her like a princess—buying her a big TV for her room, taking a family trip to Disneyland, stuff like that—but it’s all so…mechanical? Like they’re just going through the motions.”

“Elle hated Disneyland, remember?” Veronica piped in. “‘Cause her parents went to the Food & Wine Festival and left her to run around the park alone. She had to stay close to a group of older teens just so it wouldn’t seem like she was lost.”

“Yeah, yeah, exactly. It’s stuff like that. Like they think they’re letting her be independent, but they’re just ignoring her. Elle’s always trying to do something, anything, to get their attention. She used to throw parties without their permission and trash the house, but her parents never really minded it, especially since they have someone who comes and cleans their house every week. So then, Elle started breaking into their liquor cabinet. She literally left a gin bottle on her dresser in her room once, in plain view—and they didn’t even notice. Or if they did, they didn’t care.”

“Well, that explains why she’s so desperate for attention,” Jaime said, scowling. “Even negative attention.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t excuse anything she’s done.” Meg spoke up now. She hoped no one noticed her voice tremble. “Lots of kids have crappy parents. They don’t all turn into sadists.”

Calvin nuzzled against Meg’s neck, taking a deep, sighing breath as he did so. She squeezed his hand and brushed her thumb across his knuckles. A strange prickling crawled across her skin; she looked up and saw that Veronica was watching them. Something akin to pity darkened her eyes and her eyebrows were pinched together, but the moment Meg’s gaze met hers, she looked away.

Meg didn’t have a chance to dwell on the strange moment. All at once, Miguel cleared his throat and said, his voice scratchy, “What, uh, if we had a way to blackmail Elle? To keep her quiet?”

Everyone gave each other puzzled looks. “What kind of blackmail?” Jaime asked warily.

A blush darkened Miguel’s cheeks. He rubbed his hands together, looking sheepish. “Uh…remember, like, a week after the dance, when Dave Peyton walked into gym class after lunch with a welt on his lip and hickeys on his neck?”

How could they forget? Even Meg had noticed. The football player’s mouth had been scarlet and swollen as if he’d accidentally bitten his lip; his gelled, golden hair had stuck up in wild directions like someone had run their hands through it and red marks had peppered his neck. By the next day, the marks had darkened into hickeys. Multiple people had asked him what had happened, but each time, he had only replied with a smirk.

Veronica stirred her smoothie with a metal straw. “Yeah, I remember. Everyone thought that he and Bryanna McCormick made out or something. But Bryanna was really upset about it and said it wasn’t her.”

Miguel scratched the back of his neck. “It wasn’t. That same day, I was running an errand for Coach Stewart during lunch and I, uh…kinda walked in on Dave and Elle kissing under the bleachers in the gym.”

“What?!” Adriana burst out, sitting up stock-straight with shock. “You never told me that! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Elle threatened me,” he mumbled. His eyes flickered to Adriana, then to the fire. He swallowed hard. “But I’m not sure that matters anymore.”

Meg did her best to keep from rolling her eyes. How hypocritical of Elle to expose her and Calvin’s secret relationship and then partake in one herself. “If she threatened you, that must mean that she doesn’t want anyone to find out about her and Dave,” she observed. “But how would we even bring it up? We can’t just go, ‘Elle, if you tell anyone about Veronica’s eating disorder that you didn’t know anything about until now, we’ll tell everyone that you and Dave are a thing’. And if she does find out on her own, by the time we learn that she has, it’ll probably be too late.”

Determination knit Adriana’s brow together. “I say we blackmail her right now. Make an anonymous email or Tumblr or something and tell her we know and say that if she doesn’t—”

“No.” Veronica’s empty smoothie glass clinked against the metal side table as she set it down. “I’m not doing that.”

“But—”

“I don’t want to become that person again. I don’t want to resort to threats and rumors like I used to.”

Fortinbras had been lying at Veronica’s feet. All at once he stood, rested his head on her lap, and whined. Veronica’s expression softened and she ran her fingers through his thick black fur. Jaime watched with a thoughtful expression.

“I don’t approve of blackmailing Elle, either,” Calvin began. “But even if you tried, there’s no guarantee that she and Dave are still together. The day of Veronica’s seizure, I noticed something. I didn’t really think anything of it then, but now…basically, after your seizure, Dave and Elle walked to the gym together. Dave looked very upset about how entertained Elle was about the whole thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he broke up with her because of it.”

Meg chewed her bottom lip. “Why would Dave even wanna be with her in the first place? She’s so intense.”

Adriana let out a wry laugh. “You don’t know Dave like we do. He’s really chill. Too chill. He thinks Elle’s intensity is the hottest thing since God made Death Valley. He’s been flirting with her all year, but she always just called him an idiot and ignored him. I never thought she would give him the time of day, ‘cause she’s always had feelings for—”

She stopped. Her eyes darted toward Calvin for the briefest second.

“Me,” Calvin quietly finished for her. “I’ve noticed. She’s not exactly subtle.”

“Sorry,” Adriana mumbled. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

He only shrugged and rested his chin on Meg’s shoulder. She reached up to stroke his cheek.

A long silence fell, filled only by the pop and snap of the fire. Finally, Veronica sat up, rolling back her shoulders and letting out a heavy sigh. “Okay, I don’t wanna talk about Elle or my parents or anything of this anymore. Let’s do something fun. Do you guys wanna watch a movie? We’ve got a Roku and like, a million DVDs.”

“Ooh—” Jaime raised his hand. “I vote for _Spider-Verse_.”

His suggestion was met with quiet murmurs of agreement; everyone else’s minds were clearly elsewhere. But then Adriana idly mentioned how she had recently bought the first comic book Miles Morales appeared in, prompting Calvin to ask her where she’d gotten it, and the atmosphere lightened. The fire, which had dwindled to embers, was doused, and the group stood and stretched and helped clean up the patio. One by one they drifted inside until Veronica and Meg were alone.

Veronica picked up the gift bag and Fortinbras’ leash, then cast a questioning glance at Meg. “Is it okay if I bring him inside with us?”

Meg tilted her head, confused as to why she was asking permission. “Um, yeah, sure, if you don’t mind black fur getting everywhere.”

A sad smile graced Veronica’s face. She and Meg walked side-by-side to the backdoor, Fortinbras trailing behind them. “Is it weird that I kinda miss having dog hair everywhere? Bella shed like crazy, and it was a really weird feeling when I realized that I wasn’t finding her fur on my clothes anymore.”

“I think I’d feel the same if we didn’t get another dog after Fort dies,” admitted Meg. They passed through the mudroom and paused in the brightly lit kitchen. A bouquet of gerbera daisies with a small foil _Get Well Soon_ balloon sat on the counter by the fridge, filling the air with a sweet floral scent. Taking a deep breath, Meg crossed her arms and leaned against the large granite island. If she craned her neck, she could just barely see the back of Calvin’s head in the living room. “Charles Wallace was still just a baby when my dad…went missing, and my mom made it clear that Fort was my responsibility. So especially during that first year, he was really the only thing getting me out of bed every day. Well, my mom made sure I wasn’t just wallowing in my room all the time, but…you know what I mean.”

Veronica gave her a sympathetic nod. “I spent a whole weekend in bed when Bella died. I know she was just a dog, and that I can’t compare this to what you went through, I just…I was the one who found her in the street after she got loose. It was one of the most horrible things I’ve ever seen. I, um…almost came over. To your house.”

Meg’s eyes widened. She nudged her glasses farther up on her nose. “Really?”

“Yeah. I really wanted to see you that day, to tell you what happened. But my pride got in the way. And the fear that we’d get into a fight.” After setting the gift bag on the island and unleashing Fortinbras, Veronica hesitated, twirling the leash around her hand. All of a sudden, she pulled Meg into a hug. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you when your dad went missing,” she whispered.

Tears welled in Meg’s eyes. She returned the hug tightly, her heart swelling when Veronica rested her chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Bella died. And I’m sorry about your parents. I know I’m not all that great with words, but I really am so sorry.”

A minute later, Adriana found them still wrapped in a snug embrace. She threw her arms around both of them, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “The boys can’t figure out which remote changes the input on your TV.”

Veronica tilted her head back so she could look at her friend, though she didn’t pull out of the hug. “You’ve used my TV before, though?”

“Oh, I know. But it’s so fun to watch them fumble around.”

The girls all giggled. At their feet, Fortinbras let out a low woof and pressed his nose against their legs.

Meg closed her eyes. She thought of the glittering amber within the Happy Medium’s cave, of the seer himself, and of his cold, frightful vision, and wondered if he—and the Mrs—could see how much remarkably their lives had changed.

**Author's Note:**

> There are 3 more chapters planned after this. Subscribe to be notified when I update!


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